The Funny Farm and the Order of the Phoenix
by Schmo and Sushi
Summary: Sequel, FF & GOBLET OF FIRE. If the Funny Farm thought 4th year was rough, they ain't seen nothin yet! 2 weeks in Ireland, some Happy News, that Umbridge woman, and Rachel finding her Irish pride. And what about that nasty Voldemort? DeanOC, SeamusOC
1. A Funny Farm Invasion

**Chapter One:**

**A Funny Farm Invasion**

Fifteen-year-old Rachel Hekman was mowing her lawn on the hottest day of the summer, the bare Illinoisan sun sizzling anything it touched. So absorbed was the young witch in her Muggle labor that when a loud crack startled the neighbor's dog into howling, she didn't even notice.

That is, until someone tapped her on the shoulder.

The girl jumped, her frizzy brown ponytail whipping her in the chin, and barely stifled a scream when she recognized the last person on Earth that she expected to see. _"Mrs. Finnigan?_"

The pretty older woman, the mother of Rachel's good friend and classmate Seamus Finnigan, clapped her hands together under her throat and beamed. "Hello, love! I'd hug you, but you're a bit…"

"Sweaty? Yeah. What are you _doing_ here?"

"Inviting you to join a clandestine operation," Mrs. Finnigan answered with a wink. "But my word is it _hot_ Stateside!"

"Just in the Midwest, unfortunately," Rachel answered. "Here, let's sit in the shade. What's this 'clandestine operation' you speak of?"

Mrs. Finnigan lowered herself to the cool grass. "Seamus' birthday—his sixteenth birthday—is this September."

"Right."

"And I've decided to throw him a huge surprise party!" Mrs. Finnigan clapped her hands in excitement. "And nothing would surprise him more than seeing you and the other girls—he calls it the 'silly something-or-other'."

"The Funny Farm," Rachel answered with a grin.

"Exactly. So, I Apparated here to see if you girls'd come to stay with us for the last two weeks or so of summer holiday."

Rachel's jaw dropped. "In _Ireland_?"

"That's the one."

"Would we _ever_!" Rachel shrieked. "Yes! I'd _love_ to! It'd be an excellent chance to observe the Seamus species in its native habitat."

Mrs. Finnigan hopped to her feet, grinning. "First rate! I'll go and talk to your parents, then. It's been _ages_ since I saw your mum last."

"She'll be glad to see you," Rachel assured her.

As soon as the sliding glass door shut behind the other woman, Rachel let out a whoop, scaring the neighbor's dog again. _Ireland, get ready for a Funny Farm invasion!_

--

_A/N: Welcome back to the Funny Farm, everybody! :D It's a short chapter, we know, but they'll get longer, trust us. ;D Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! That pretty button right below is beckoning, isn't it?_


	2. SURPRISE!

**Chapter Two:**

**SURPRISE!**

It was four o'clock on a rainy August morning as four bleary-eyed teenage girls gathered on a remote Illinois hilltop, a few carry-on bags stacked atop their school trunks as Rachel's owl Romulus squawked and fluttered his wings.

"What did the Ministry say the Portkey would be?" asked Hannah Schreiter, a short, skinny German maiden.

"A de-skinned baseball," answered Katelyn Barcanic, ruffling her chin-length hair.

"Like this one?" said Tanya Rogers, bending to pick up the object.

"NO, TANYA!" Katelyn shrieked, nearly knocking the poor young Russian to the ground. "It's bound to go off in"—she looked at her watch—"a minute. Just in time—thanks, Tanya!"

"Gather around, then," Rachel Hekman called out, herding the three other girls to the Portkey. "We don't want to miss this one."

All four girls put their fingers on the baseball and gathered their baggage about them. "Ten…nine…eight…" Tanya counted, looking at her watch.

Katelyn quickly hugged her mother, who was standing aside. "Bye, Mom!"

"Three…two…one…"

There was a flash of light, and a few minutes later, the girls were sprawled on cool grass, gazing up at a brilliant blue sky. A delightful breeze ruffled their hair.

"Welcome to Graiguenmanagh, county Kildare!" came Mrs. Finnigan's voice. "I'm glad to see you all made it here in one piece!"

Rachel struggled to sit up, her head spinning. "Hi again, Mrs. Finnigan! Hi, Dean!"

_"Dean!_"

Hannah leapt to her feet and ran down the grassy hill, smack into Dean's arms. "I missed you!"

Dean spun her around. "I miss you, too!"

Everyone looked away as the couple shared a kiss.

"Anyway, are you guys ready for a party?" Mrs. Finnigan asked, her eyes twinkling. "My side of the family has already started setting up."

"Absolutely!" Rachel exclaimed.

"Excellent," Mrs. Finnigan replied. "The house is over there."

She pointed, and the girls shielded their eyes to look. It was an adorable European house, with several outbuildings and a fenced backyard with a tall willow tree. "It's just a minute's walk, but it _is_ a farm, so you may want to watch your step."

"A _farm_?" Tanya asked quizzically as Mrs. Finnigan waved her wand and Levitated the girls' luggage behind them. "Seamus never mentioned it."

"Mr. Finnigan is a professor of veterinary science at a university nearby," Mrs. Finnigan explained. "His students work on it during term, but it's mostly magic-run during the summer holiday."

"No kidding," Rachel said. "I never knew Seamus was a farm boy."

"Too bad he doesn't have a Southern accent," Katelyn teased. Rachel shushed her quickly.

"What do you raise?" Hannah asked sweetly.

"Sheep, mainly," replied Mrs. Finnigan. "We have five horses, a dairy cow, and a herd of 150 sheep."

"Wow," Tanya breathed. "That's a lot!"

"We make our own milk and cheese."

"That is _so cool_," Katelyn gushed.

"Until the animals get sick," Mrs. Finnigan answered lightly.

"…Oh."

"Now, for a few warnings," Mrs. Finnigan went on as they approached the back door of the house. "My family—they're all O'Malleys, I have only brothers—is quite nice. My father is a bit cantankerous, however, so don't take it personally. He prefers to be called 'Sir' or 'Captain'. He and Seamus are very close."

"Aw," said Tanya.

"Right, then," said Mrs. Finnigan, and opened the door. The girls and Dean stepped into a bright, neat kitchen, white laminate on the floor and yellow walls. The white cupboards had been neatly stenciled with idyllic scenes of an Irish countryside, and it looked almost American. (The female Funny Farm had never been to a European home before, so they didn't realize just how similar real estate is on the two continents.)

"This is lovely!" Rachel said.

Mrs. Finnigan smiled. "The parlor is right through that door—we're decorating in there. You go and mingle while I set up your room. It needs a bit of a magic touch," she added with a wink.

She left the room.

"You go first," Katelyn said to Hannah after a pause.

"I vote Tanya."

"I vote Katelyn.

"Oh, I'll go," Rachel said, rolling her eyes. She pushed open the door, and a wall of cheerful chatter met their ears. Close to twenty-five witches and wizards, some in Muggle clothes and the rest in robes, were busily decorating the spacious parlor. An elderly gentleman was rocking in a chair, puffing quickly on a pipe as he conversed with a middle-aged blonde witch. A tousle-haired 20-something with Seamus' features held a tiny girl on his shoulders as she waved her hands and sent clumps of confetti dancing in circles above the head of a short but brawny man who was muttering charms under his breath as he clumsily wrapped an odd-shaped box.

The girls just stood there, soaking in the strange mixture of wizard and Muggle work that they were so accustomed to. After a moment, the blonde witch noticed them and broke away from the old man to come over.

"Hello! You must be Seamus' school friends."

"Hi," chorused the girls.

"Hi back! I'm Seamus' Aunt Eva. Mrs. Finnigan's brother Pat is my husband. Pat! Say hello!"

A man in a Muggle t-shirt waved briefly before Levitating a decoration to rest on a lamp overhead.

"You can call me Aunt Eva, too." She smiled. "What are your names? Seamus has told me all about you, but I don't remember who is who."

"I'm Tanya Rogers."

"I'm Hannah Schreiter."

"I'm Katelyn Barcanic."

"I'm Rachel Hekman."

"Well, hello and welcome to the United Kingdom, Tanya, Hannah, Katelyn, and Rachel," Aunt Eva exclaimed.

"Thanks!" Rachel said. "Can we help in some way?"

Aunt Eva thought a moment. "I suppose you're all underage, so that means Muggle work for you." Her eyes twinkled. "Hannah, would you like to help my daughter Bridey hang streamers? She's the short brunette in the corner. And that's her husband, Tige, in case it come up. Oh, Dean, sweet, I know you fancy the lass. You go with her."

The two scampered off.

"Katelyn, darling, why don't you help little Margaret put away her toys? She's Uncle Malachy's girl. Only four and already using magic! On that thought, watch yourself around her—it's not quite under control yet."

Katelyn nodded and went off to play with the golden-haired toddler.

"Tanya and Rachel, there is a large stack of gifts that need to be wrapped, and Uncle Adam seems to be having trouble. Would you mind helping him at all?"

"Nope!" Tanya and Rachel replied, and went to help Uncle Adam.

"Thank heaven," the man sighed when they announced their intent to assist. "I canna wrap gifts to save my life!"

"The Irish are kinda hard to understand," whispered Tanya as she cut wrapping paper.

"Says the woman with a Russian accent," Rachel answered teasingly.

Tanya stuck her tongue out.

"So where's Seamus, anyway?" Rachel asked Uncle Adam with curiosity.

"It's Saturday—he and his da are playing cricket," he answered.

Tanya and Rachel had to disguise their laughter. "Seamus is a farm boy _and_ a cricketer!" Rachel said. "Whodathunkit?"

After a few minutes, the elderly gentleman with the pipe got up from the rocking chair and came towards the table at which Rachel, Tanya, and Uncle Adam were working. "Which one of you wrapped this here gift?" he grumbled, nudging a freshly wrapped package with his cane.

"I did, sir," Rachel offered respectfully.

The captain grunted and continued to poke at the pile of wrapped gifts. "What did you get my grandson?"

"I got him a copy of _Band of Brothers_," Rachel answered.

"Damn Yankee boys," the captain said.

"Pardon me, sir," replied Rachel. Tanya could see her friend's hackles rising. "But those damn Yankee boys, as you so delicately put it, turned the tide of the first _and_ second World Wars, not to mention risked their lives to liberate Holland from the Nazis, thereby saving my grandfather's life."

Tanya winced and waited for Rachel to get a dressing-down.

However, the captain puffed quickly on his pipe, then limped away without a cross word.

Uncle Adam looked impressed. "I assume Seamus has told you how to get on Da's good side."

"No," Rachel replied, surprised. "I simply stated a fact."

"But you drew the war card on him," Uncle Adam answered. "He was an infantry captain in the second World War—got shrapnel in the leg in France."

"How _old_ is he?" Tanya exclaimed.

"Eighty-seven."

"He looks sixty."

"He's a wizard, you know."

The doorbell rang at this moment, and Uncle Malachy answered it.

"Where's the no-good son-of-a-gun?" shouted a thin, red-cheeked, middle-aged man, hobbling in on a cane.

"That's O'Shea," Uncle Adam murmured. "He owns Da's favorite pub, the Wheatsheaf."

"Did he get wounded in the war, too?" Tanya asked.

"No—got a bad spell off a Death Eater in the time of You-Know-Who."

"Whoa."

Aunt Eva brought O'Shea and two older gentlemen into the room. "You ought to meet Seamus' school friends."

"Oh, where are they?" said the white-haired, fat old man behind O'Shea. "I wanna kiss 'em for taking that boy offa our hands."

"They're over here, Doyle," said Aunt Eva, and motioned to the girls. "O'Shea, Doyle, McCourt, meet Rachel Hekman, Katelyn Barcanic, Hannah Schreiter, and Tanya Rogers. Girls, meet O'Shea, Doyle, and McCourt."

"Welcome to Graiguenmanagh," Doyle said cheerfully, wringing the girls' hands.

"Thanks!"

"Seamus has blathered nonstop about ya since he started Hogwarts," McCourt, a kindly-looking old man, said.

The girls laughed. "He seems to have kept all of you secret!" Tanya said.

"Can ya blame the lad?"

There was more laughter. At this moment, Mrs. Finnigan pushed open the kitchen door. "Jack just called—they're on their way from the cricket field!"

The room exploded in activity. The witches and wizards took over, flicking their wands and sending leftover decorations and wrapping paper into closets, while Mrs. Finnigan Levitated trays of goodies out of the kitchen and into the parlor.

"They're here!" Bridey cried, dropping the curtain and running from the window. "Everybody hide!"

Rachel and Hannah ran and hid behind a cushy armchair, while Tanya dove (literally, headfirst) into a closet and Katelyn slipped behind a translucent curtain.

A moment later, the doorknob turned and Seamus came in, looking over his shoulder at his dad as they enthusiastically discussed the match they'd just played.

"…And did you see Tierney? That bat was amazing!"

_"SURPRISE!_" shouted all the hidden party guests, and jumped out of their hiding-spots.

Seamus started at first, then grinned. "What is this for?"

"Your sixteenth birthday, of course!" Mrs. Finnigan exclaimed, hurrying forward to hug him.

"But it's not for more than two weeks, Mam."

"Because it didn't make much sense for everyone to stay for only a few days," Mrs. Finnigan replied, eyes twinkling.

"'Everyone'?"

Katelyn and Tanya tackled Seamus, nearly knocking him flat in their exuberance. "Happy birthday, Seamus!"

The look on Seamus' face sent everyone into fits of laughter, but he recovered enough to hug the two girls back, grinning. "What are you guys doing here? Where's—"

"Happy birthday, ya good-for-nothing lump!" Hannah cried, Rachel close behind her.

Seamus' face lit up, and he first hugged Hannah, then threw his arms around Rachel and squeezed until her feet lifted a centimeter off the ground.

"H…appy bir-r-rthday," Rachel wheezed, grinning.

"This is great!" he said, setting her down and addressing the crowd. "…Is there cake?"

And thus the party commenced. After a good three hours of nonstop laughter and food, the first aunt and uncle decided to take their children home for a nap, and the party began to wind down. It was nearly 3:30 in the afternoon, but the girls, having gotten only five hours of sleep the night before, began to feel slightly sleepy.

"I'm really glad you guys are here," Seamus told them and Dean. "You're staying until term starts, right?"

"Of course!" Rachel said. "We're going to take every opportunity to eat all your food, breathe all your air, and take over your life."

Seamus grinned. "We're gonna have so much fun. Graiguenmanagh is a small town, but there's so much to do. Maybe you can help with the chores, even!"

"That's okay," Katelyn said hastily.

"No, no, they're fun chores! Every morning at six I take the sheep out to pasture. The horses need to be fed, the cow milked, fun stuff like that. Magic does the rest."

"I still can't believe you've known us for five years and never once told us you live on a farm," Tanya said accusingly. "And Dean, you never breathed a word!"

Seamus looked sheepish, but Dean just shrugged. "It never came up."

Rachel wrinkled her nose. "We're from the American Midwest, Seamus—farms aren't exactly unusual."

"I just…"

"Just what?" Hannah paused. "Were you embarrassed?"

Seamus flushed. "I…"

"Oh, Seamus, don't you ever think that we'll judge you for something like that again!" Katelyn cried. "We don't care if you live on a farm or Buckingham palace!"

"I happen to think that your house is extremely pretty," Rachel said quietly.

"I'm sorry, guys," Seamus mumbled.

Rachel went to sit next to him on the sofa. "It's okay. Really."

Mrs. Finnigan came into the room. "I have your bedroom ready, girls. Would you like to unpack?"

"Sure," Tanya said brightly, and they got up to follow Mrs. Finnigan into the finished basement.


	3. Hiyo, Seamus, Awaaaaay!

**Chapter Three:**

**Hiyo, Seamus, Awaaaay!**

It was early in the morning when Rachel woke to a soft knock at the door. Katelyn, Hannah, and Tanya snored on.

A moment later, the door opened a crack and Mrs. Finnigan tiptoed in, her wand aglow.

"Is something wrong?" Rachel asked sleepily.

"No, no, don't worry. I just wanted to see if any of you girls wanted to go with Seamus and bring the sheep to pasture."

"I will," Rachel said, suddenly awake. She sat up and put her glasses on.

"Wonderful. Katelyn? Tanya? Hannah?"

The other three girls groaned and turned away in unison.

"I suppose that's a 'no'," Mrs. Finnigan chuckled. "All right. Breakfast is almost ready, so as soon as you're dressed, come up. Oh, and it's a bit nippy, so wear pants and a coat."

"I _love_ Ireland," sighed Rachel, who hated the heat of Illinois summers.

"Great," Mrs. Finnigan said with a smile. "I'll tell Seamus." She closed the door, and Rachel dressed quickly in a pair of jeans and a 'Property of the 20th Maine' t-shirt. She threw a light jacket on and pulled her tousled hair back into an untidy ponytail, then paused and loosened a few airy curls around her face before going upstairs.

Seamus was already at the table, and Mrs. Finnigan was puttering about in the parlor while bacon sizzled happily on the stove. "Good morning, Seamus," Rachel said, patting his back before sitting down.

"Mmph," Seamus grunted, his eyes still closed as he leaned heavily on his hands.

"Seamus is not a morning person," Mrs. Finnigan noted, coming in to flip the bacon.

"I've noticed," Rachel said dryly, rubbing his arm.

"Mmph," Seamus grunted.

Mrs. Finnigan came over and put a few slices of bacon on both teenagers' plates and followed it with three or four thick pancakes.

"Flapjacks," Rachel said happily.

Seamus and Mrs. Finnigan blinked.

"Nineteenth-century term for pancakes," she explained slowly.

"Oookay," Seamus said, his voice muffled by a glass of orange juice.

Ten minutes later, Rachel and a significantly cheerier Seamus went out the back door. The summer sun was starting to rise over the craggy hilltops, the air was cool, and a light drizzle was falling.

"Ugh," said Seamus.

"Oh, it's beautiful," Rachel said, poking him teasingly.

He poked her back. "Now, come on. Do you ride?"

"Do I—what?"

"Do you ride horseback?"

"A bit. But I'm no expert."

"I'll give you Oberon, then." Seamus led her to the barn door and unlatched it. "He's the grey on the end."

"Give me Oberon? A horse? I thought we were taking the sheep to pasture."

"We are," Seamus answered, motioning her inside. "But the pasture is three kilometers away."

"Um…that's two miles. Have I ever told you how much I love horses?"

Seamus chuckled. "Come on, you can help me get them ready. I'll be riding Romany." The door groaned as he opened it, and there was an answering whinny.

"What do you want me to do?"

He flipped on the light and went to the first stall, where a chestnut horse with flicking ears awaited. "This is Romany. Hold him while I tack 'im?"

"While you _what_?"

_"Tack him_," Seamus repeated, slipping a bridle over Romany's head and leading him out.

Rachel took the lead. "Your accent's always stronger after the holidays."

He poked her as he passed. "You seem to think _you_ don't have an accent."

"Yes, but it's _American_. Therefore, it's better!"

"Everything is American is better. Except the accents. And the autos. And the telly. And the politics."

"Oo, I'm going to hurt you for that!"

"At least wait until I'm done here," Seamus grunted as he lifted the saddle to Romany's back and fastened the girth.

"At your beck and call, Master," Rachel replied with a grin, tying Romany's reins to a hook on the wall.

Seamus growled and caught her around the waist, lugging her over to Oberon's stall before she could resist. Oberon snorted and bent his massive grey head to sniff at the newcomer's hand.

"He seems very friendly," Rachel noted as Seamus set her back on her feet.

"He doesn't bite too hard," Seamus agreed, slipping a bridle on over Oberon's rotating ears and leading him out.

"Hardeehar," Rachel retorted, holding the harness while Seamus put the saddle on.

Seamus patted Oberon's side. "Ready?"

Lighting up, Rachel nodded. Seamus held out his hands to boost her into the saddle, but Rachel didn't notice and swung up by herself. "I'm so excited!"

Seamus looked impressed. "All right. Oberon pretty much knows what to do. I'll go let the sheep from their pen—if you'll guide him to the pen and help keep the sheep in line?"

"I'll try my best, captain," Rachel said with a salute. Seamus grinned and returned the salute before running from the barn to let the sheep out. Rachel followed, the saddle jangling.

Once the pen was opened, the sheep began milling out, and Oberon stamped a hoof and followed almost of his own accord. A moment later, and Seamus came around from behind, whooping and herding the bleating sheep before Romany's stomping hooves. "Watch that one over there," he called, and Rachel quickly used Oberon to send the stray ram back into the flock.

It took a few minutes, but soon the little band had organized itself and obediently followed a path worn through the meadow grass. "You having fun yet?" Seamus called with a grin.

"You betcha!" Rachel replied. "It's been a long time since I've had a horse that does what I tell it to!" To prove her point, she nudged the creature over a bit, sending a bleating lamb back to its mother.

"You're a natural," he teased.

"I'm from the Midwest," she replied, bowing slightly. "Now, what that has to do with sheep herding, I have no idea…"

Seamus laughed.

Two or so hours later, the other members of the Funny Farm had woken and were sleepily eating breakfast while Mrs. Finnigan, baby Kathleen on her hip, did laundry and dishes with her wand and kissed Mr. Finnigan, who was leaving to deliver a truckload of custom furniture to a new development in Dublin, goodbye.

Once he'd left, Mrs. Finnigan turned to the groggy-looking teenagers and grinned. "I've got so much planned for today! I thought we'd go into town and look at the some shops. For lunch, we can stop at the Wheatsheaf. It's got the most delectable chips you'll ever have! And then Mr. Finnigan is going to watch Kathleen, and I am going to take you to a concert in the Square."

"Concert?" Katelyn was awake immediately. "Who? The Weird Sisters? U2?"

"It's a Celtic folk group, actually, love," Mrs. Finnigan replied, sending Katelyn's plate spinning into the sink, where a sponge began soaping it up.

_"Folk_ group?" Katelyn repeated, sounding rather disinterested.

"Oo!" Tanya and Hannah squealed. "We love Celtic folk—and their music!"

"Excellent!" Mrs. Finnigan said happily. "This'll be new to you, too, Dean. I can't believe, four summers here and I've never once taken you shopping!"

"There's a reason for that," Dean said darkly.

At this moment, there came a panicked pounding on the back door. Mrs. Finnigan went over to it and brushed aside the airy curtain. Abruptly, her face went white and she put Kathleen in Tanya's arms, a few foreign words escaping her lips as she flung the door open.

Seamus staggered in, and the Funny Farm gasped. Rachel, a dusky bruise marring one cheek, was lying lifelessly in his arms, one hand dangling silently in the air.

"She fell off Oberon," Seamus cried, his face red with exertion. "She hit her head on a rock, and—and…"

"Put her down on her back," Mrs. Finnigan instructed, her pretty face white as a sheet.

Seamus knelt and laid her down gently, but Rachel's head lolled to the side and Katelyn stifled a shriek of horror. Mrs. Finnigan closed her eyes briefly before kneeling and putting her hand at the base of Rachel's jaw. "She's got a pulse."

"I think it's her neck," Seamus said fearfully.

Mrs. Finnigan covered her mouth and pushed the hair from Rachel's forehead.

Suddenly, Rachel's eyes flew open, and she shouted—"BOO!"

Everyone except Seamus screamed bloody murder, and little Kathleen began to cry. "You should have seen your faces!" Seamus crowed as Rachel sat up, laughing.

"I guess they really _do_ care!" Rachel exclaimed.

Seamus took her hand and helped her to her feet, both of them hanging on each other and nearly crying with laughter. "I can't _believe_ they fell for it!"

"But…but…the bruise," Hannah said weakly.

"Okay, so maybe I did fall," Rachel replied darkly.

"Scared me half to death, you did."

"Very Indiana Jones-esque, don't you think? Something Marcus would do."

"If Marcus tripped on a rock and landed face-down, then yes."

"Maybe more Lone Ranger-ish…"

"Yeah, like when he got his lasso around a bad guy's ankles and yanked him down while he was running. You'd be the bad guy."

Mrs. Finnigan took Kathleen and rocked her until she stopped wailing. "That was a horrible trick, you two!"

"It got you, though," Seamus replied with a grin.

"Fine," Mrs. Finnigan relented, trying not to smile. "It was a good trick. But it was still horrible, and I'll ground both of you for the rest of eternity if you do it again!"

Seamus and Rachel high-fived.

"Now, we're going into town for the day, so go and bathe," Mrs. Finnigan went on. "And hurry—we'd like to leave."

Still snickering, Rachel and Seamus left the kitchen and went their separate ways.


	4. Witching Hour at the Wheatsheaf

**Chapter Four:**

**Witching Hour at the Wheatsheaf**

Several hours later, a very hungry band of teenagers traipsed after Mrs. Finnigan. Hannah had bought herself a gorgeous necklace in the shape of a tiny Celtic fairy; Katelyn had gotten a green t-shirt emblazoned with the slogan "Irish I Was In Graiguenmanagh"; Tanya had a pair of four-leaf clover earrings; and Rachel had got herself a dark green shawl of the softest wool.

"Now, the Wheatsheaf may be a pub," Mrs. Finnigan was saying, "but lucky for you, it's Witching Hour."

"What's Witching Hour?" Tanya asked as they approached the door.

Mrs. Finnigan chuckled. "Come on in."

She opened the door, and what to the Funny Farm's wondering eyes should appear, but dozens of witches and wizards, long robes over their wool sweaters, laughing and talking as charmed drinks floated through the crows. A few owls sat on the backs of chairs, a bat hung from the ceiling, and someone had charmed bubbles to float and twinkle over their heads.

"Ah, Moira, m'lass," came a booming voice. "And the boys! Come in, come in!"

Mrs. Finnigan smiled and beckoned the girls in, too. The pub, upon entering, actually seemed rather benign, and the only smoky smell was coming from the captain's pipe. "This isn't bad," Katelyn commented.

"Glad it meets your high American standards," O'Shea said from behind the counter, grinning cheekily.

"Oh, hush, O'Shea," Mrs. Finnigan scolded.

O'Shea winked. "So—what'll ye and yer two fine-lookin' fellas and their bonnie lasses have?"

"You make it sound like we're their harem!" Rachel said laughingly. "I'll have you know I keep Seamus on a tight leash."

Seamus rolled his eyes, but O'Shea leaned across the counter, grinning as he wiped out a glass. "Ah, Seamus, me lad, you never breathed a word, you sly dog!"

"What are you _talking_ about?"

"I had no idea this sassy lassie's yer girlfriend!" O'Shea rapped on the counter. "You keep a tight secret!"

"There's no secret, O'Shea, Rachel's not my girlfriend."

Rachel flushed bright red as Tanya, Dean, Hannah, and Katelyn snickered. "Nope. Best friend, but not girlfriend."

"Nope."

"Nay."

"Negative."

"Nuh-uh."

"Not at all."

"Sorry already!" O'Shea held his hands up. "Tell you what—lunch is on the house, 'cause I think I traumatized this sassy lassie here."

"Fine," Seamus replied. To Rachel in an undertone, he said, "You really oughtta get traumatized more often."

She elbowed him good-naturedly.

"I think we'll all have the colcannon," Mrs. Finnigan said. "With ginger beer to drink."

"Right-o," said O'Shea, and waved his wand as Mrs. Finnigan brought the Funny Farm to a table.

"Da, come here and say hello!" she said, waving the captain over.

"Hello," said the captain, stumping past on his way to a jukebox in the corner.

"I started reading the books you and Rachel got me yesterday, Grandda," Seamus called after him.

"Oh yeah? And what's better—_Old Man from the Repple Depple_ or _Band of Brothers_?"

"They're both good," Seamus replied, rolling his eyes.

The captain rapped the jukebox with his wand, and it began to play a scratchy big-band tune. "Damn Yanks."

"Who won the war," Seamus retorted.

"It's Vera Lynn!" Rachel exclaimed suddenly.

The captain looked up. "Aye. How did you know?"

"You have no idea what goes on in Rachel's head," Dean said teasingly.

"She's a history buff," Hannah added.

"No kidding," said the captain, sounding interested, and he limped over to sit at the table with them. "Any specialties?"

"The Civil War," said Rachel, beaming. "American one."

O'Shea Levitated a few trays over to the table. "Eat hearty!"

The Funny Farm ate obediently—the food was good, just as they'd been promised, much to the Americans' relief. "I guess the Irish really _can_ cook," Katelyn teased.

Seamus rolled his eyes as Rachel hummed along with Benny Goodman. "Oh, yeah, that whole Potato Famine thing was just a fluke."

Rachel snorted. "Yeah, the cooks just substituted the potatoes with…"

"Nothing!" The two of them cracked up and clinked their glasses together.

The captain looked between them, and everybody else just blinked.

"Come on, Seamus," Rachel laughed, putting her cup down and standing. "Let's amaze everyone with our swing dance abilities."

"Oh, yeah, we were _amazing_ at the Yule Ball!" Seamus replied, standing up, too, and following Rachel to the little area in front of the jukebox.

_"Que horrible,"_ Hannah said as the two began to obviously fake a swing dance.

"If that means 'the worst swinging I've ever seen,' then I wholeheartedly agree," grumbled the captain. "What a disgrace." He got to his feet and stumped over to the two. "Move aside, boy, and let me show you how it's done."

Katelyn, Hannah, Tanya and Dean had to stifle snorts of laughter as gimpy old Grandda O'Malley showed Seamus up easily, calling things like "You takin' notes, boy?" and "I learned _this_ move from a pretty Frenchie in Paris!"

"Awright, Grandda," Seamus said after a few minutes. "You're scaring Rachel. Lemme try."

"Have at her, then, ya whippersnapper," the captain said, limping away to watch.

"Not _too_ bad," Katelyn admitted as Seamus and Rachel gave it another go. "They really got chemistry together. _You_ two oughtta—never mind."

Hannah and Dean had already gotten up to join Rachel and Seamus in dancing.

"Don't look at me," Tanya said as Katelyn's head swiveled to face her. "I've got two left feet."

"Except when you're waltzing with Terry."

"Well, this isn't a waltz, and no offense but you're no Terry."

Katelyn blinked. "Merlin's beard, Tanya had a good comeback!"

"I did?" Tanya said blankly.

"Oh, never mind," Katelyn sighed. "You're hopeless."

"Who?"

Katelyn put her head on the table.

There was a burst of laughter from the room as Rachel dipped Seamus. ("I'll give you a matching bruise on your other cheek, woman!") Mrs. Finnigan bounced little Kathleen on her knee, grinning as the baby cooed and clapped her hands along with the music.

A few more minutes passed, and then the four dancers decided they'd had enough, and they returned to their seats. Kathleen, a bit over-stimulated and sleepy, began to fuss, and Mrs. Finnigan gathered up the diaper bag and various other things.

"I think we'd best go home, loves," she announced, putting Kathleen into her carrier. "Little Kathy needs a nap—and I think I do, too. It's a little after two. We'll have dinner at seven? And the concert starts at 8:30—good?"

"Great," everyone chorused.

"Wonderful," Mrs. Finnigan said. She paid for their meal and then they left, waving in response to the cheerful farewells from the Wheatsheaf's patrons before piling into the Finnigans' Irish SUV (a Ssangyong Rexton, apparently).

"That was really fun," Rachel said breathlessly, strapping on her seatbelt and turning to face the others as they got settled in for the drive from town to the Finnigans' home.

"Yeah," Hannah replied, taking Dean's hand in hers and squeezing it. "Can we do that again?"

"I wouldn't mind," Seamus chimed in.

Hannah, Tanya, and Dean, all squashed in the backseat, elbowed each other and winked as Katelyn, in the middle with Seamus and Kathleen's car seat, looked on with a knowing grin. Mrs. Finnigan, watching in the rearview mirror, frowned in thought, and Rachel and Seamus looked out their windows, blushing red.


	5. The Wicked Witch of the Irish Southeast

**Chapter Five:**

**The Wicked Witch of the Irish Southeast**

Dinner came and went, and at about ten after eight, the Funny Farm and Mrs. Finnigan piled back into the Rexton, leaving little Kathleen in the care of her doting da. Twilight was just beginning to fall as they parked on Gramercy Avenue and, lawn chairs in hand, trekked the block or so to Graiguenmanagh Square. A band was setting up in the pavilion, and Mrs. Finnigan was able to find the perfect spot right in front of the stage, the place having just vacated by a technical crew and their scary-looking van.

"Seamus' friend Evin Quinn plays the bass guitar there," Mrs. Finnigan said, pointing to a gangly, rather short teen with shaggy blonde hair. "He's a quiet boy, generally."

"Plays a mean gully, though," Seamus put in, helping Katelyn with her chair. "Loves to tease."

"My cousin Brian O'Flaherty does the pipes," Mrs. Finnigan went on, and named all the members of the band.

"Why don't _you_ play in it?" Rachel asked, nudging his arm.

"Because of the band's singer," Seamus replied. "Aileen ó Dunn."

"She's a lovely girl," Mrs. Finnigan protested.

"She's horrible, Mam! I'd call her a witch if it wouldn't insult a few people I happen to care about."

"You liked her well enough until just a few years ago."

"Until I found out what real "girl" friends act like. She's nothin' compared to these four."

Katelyn, Hannah, Tanya, and Rachel all stifled coos of appreciation.

"Honestly, she's a simpering, mean-hearted, back-stabbing, gold-digging…you-know-what."

Rachel impulsively hugged him around the neck. "Oh, you big softie."

"For crying out loud!"

"Well, _sorry_,"

"No, not you," Seamus sighed. "Aileen's coming over. Brace yourselves."

The Funny Farm turned and saw a pretty, smiling girl come over to them, her white dress fluttering in the night breeze and her airy, strawberry-blonde hair streaming down her back. "Seamus, _mo chroí_!"

"Hi, Aileen," Seamus said, standing.

The girls looked disbelievingly at Dean, who gave them a look that said "Trust him on this one".

"It's so wonderful to see you here tonight! And with dear Dean!" Aileen gave a sparkly laugh and bounced up to kiss the two boys on both cheeks. (Rachel and Hannah both took sharp breaths, and Tanya patted their hands.) "Who are your friends?"

"This is Rachel Hekman, Tanya Rogers, Hannah Schreiter, and Katelyn Barcanic. They go to school with me."

"Looks like you're mighty popular with the ladies over at St. Bartholomew's." Aileen laughed, but there was a subtle threatening tone to her giggle.

"No, they're just my good friends."

"Ah, well, how do you do, Rachel?" Aileen stepped forward and kissed the much taller girl's cheek with a sunny smile that flickered into a brief sneer when her back was turned to Seamus.

"Um, good?" Rachel said uncertainly.

"And you, Hannah? And Tanya? And Katelyn?" She kissed them all. "Such…unique names! I would never give _my_ children names like those, but you do certainly stand out, don't you think?"

Seamus, behind Aileen, mouthed violently, "What did I tell you!"

Rachel smiled rather sardonically. "I don't need my name to stand out."

"No, you certainly don't," Aileen replied, looking Rachel up and down. "You're not exactly…a regular beauty, are you?"

"I think she's very pretty," Seamus cut in, steering Aileen away before she could do any more damage. "The band's waiting, go on." Once she was gone, he turned back to the stunned little group with an apologetic shrug. "I'm sorry…"

"What a horrible little—" Dean quickly clapped a hand over Katelyn's mouth before she could say something unpleasant.

"I've never seen her act that way," Mrs. Finnigan said, astonished. "She's usually all compliments!"

"I don't think she saw you, Mrs. Finnigan," Tanya said. "You're sitting, and we're all standing in front of you."

"That is worrying," Mrs. Finnigan replied, knitting her fingers together under her chin. "Well, the concert is starting. Go on, sit down."

Everyone sat obediently and waited as the musicians tuned their instruments. As they did so, Seamus leaned over to Rachel. "I'm sorry about Aileen…It won't ruin the concert for you, will it?"

His voice in her ear rather startled Rachel, who'd been wondering privately if he really _did_ think her pretty. "What? No, of—of course not. Little twit…I could knock her over with a sneeze. She doesn't bother me." (Aileen actually did, but Rachel wouldn't've admitted that for the world.)

"Good. Don't listen to anything she says. Any of you."

"We won't," the girls chorused, all thinking that Seamus' protectiveness was awfully cute.

And thus the music started. Aileen, her silky hair billowing in the evening breeze, sang like an angel, her pure voice sending ancient Irish words rolling over the barley-covered hillsides and making the four female Funny Farmers dislike her even more. Evin Quinn on the bass played well, too, though the Funny Farm didn't start to hate him immediately. He kept looking in their direction, his eyes barely visible under his shaggy blonde hair. But these personal distractions aside, the Funny Farm greatly enjoyed the music, especially those that hadn't grown up with it, and were rather disappointed when the concert came to a close.

"Well, what did everyone think?" Mrs. Finnigan asked, beginning to pack up the chairs.

"Great!" Tanya exclaimed, still clapping.

"Yeah," Katelyn enthused. "Not as great as Bono or the Weird Sisters, but still good."

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it!" Mrs. Finnigan beamed. "Oh—Seamus and Dean, why don't you fetch Evin over here to meet the girls?"

"Okay." The two boys trekked off.

Once they were out of earshot, Mrs. Finnigan's face broke into a grin. "I think that Evin finds American girls attractive. Why do I say that? Well, he's generally very quiet—stands in the back and doesn't look up. But I noticed that _someone_ was showing off and looking here an awful lot!"

The girls blinked.

"Oh, here he comes," Mrs. Finnigan squealed. "How wonderful if one of you girls dated him!"

"I'm taken," Hannah announced proudly.

"Wrong Irishman," Rachel muttered to Tanya, who didn't quite make the connection at first.

"Evin, meet Tanya," Seamus said without ceremony.

"Hey."

"Hi!"

"And Katelyn."

"Hey."

"Aloha."

"And Hannah."

"Hey."

"Hello…"

"And Rachel."

"Hey."

"Hi! It's nice to meet you."

Evin shook his hair out of his eyes. "So…where you from?"

"Illinois, Stateside," Rachel volunteered. "We go to school with Seamus."

"Any of you watch the World Cup?"

"Not really," Hannah replied. "Football, at least the European variety, isn't very popular in America, I'm afraid…at least not as big as American football and baseball."

"Shame."

"Evin Quinn!" A woman's voice was heard over the din of the departing crowd. "Let's go!"

"That's my mam," said Evin. "Catch you later."

"Hey, man, wait up," Seamus said, following. "I need t'ask you something…"

"What did I tell you?" Mrs. Finnigan gushed. "I've never heard Evin say so much in his life! He's got the hots for one of you girls, I'll warrant."

"Disturbing on so many levels," Dean muttered.

"Man, your friends are hot!" Evin's voice rose over the chatter.

"Yeah, maybe, but…" Seamus' voice trailed off into indistinctiveness, and the four girls blinked and looked uncertainly at each other.

"Is he talking about…_us_?" Katelyn ventured.

Rachel looked behind them, just in case. "Um…there's no one else around…"

They stared at each other, rather bewildered. "Well," Tanya said uncomfortably, "we all have our own…unique…brands of beauty, I suppose…"

"But we're nowhere near hot," Katelyn finished matter-of-factly.

"Girls are in rather high demand here in Graiguenmanagh," Mrs. Finnigan said. "In Seamus' fourth grade class, there were twenty students total, fourteen of them boys. The secondary school is slightly bigger, but the ratio is the same. I suppose most any girl with a smile looks good to these poor lads."

"Gee, thanks," Hannah said dryly.

Seamus returned, looking satisfied. "Okay, let's go."

"So?" Mrs. Finnigan pressed. "What did Evin have to say?"

"He thinks the girls are…hot," Seamus said with difficulty, looking anywhere _but_ at the girls.

"Oooh! How?"

"He says the blonde has a pretty smile."

Tanya squealed with joy. "How nice of him!"

"And the others?"

"Katelyn he thinks is really cute in a forest critter sort of way?"

"He _what_?" Katelyn snarled. "Oo, I'll teach him just how cute a rabid squirrel can be…"

"And Hannah?"

"He says she's got amazing, get-lost-in-them eyes."

Hannah blushed modestly, but Dean cracked his knuckles menacingly. "I'll pound 'im if he tries to make a move on her."

"Oh, Dean, you're so sweet!"

Piling the chairs into the Rexton, Mrs. Finnigan said, "And Rachel?"

Seamus didn't look too happy about this one. "He said…he said she's got hair that's perfect for…for burying your hands in."

"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment, or…"

"He means when you kiss," Mrs. Finnigan said, patting Rachel's arm.

"Uhh…thank you for that…clarification?" Rachel self-consciously ran a hand through her thick mane of curls as they got into the car.

"Hey, at least you've not been compared to Thumper," Katelyn said darkly from the backseat.

"That's what you get for saying 'aloha' to an Irishman."

"I'll aloha _you_ if you're not careful!"

"Girls, girls, please!" Mrs. Finnigan said as the car bumped off the paved road and onto the dirt one that led back to the Finnigans' farm. "I think what Evin said about each of you was sweet. Why don't you busy yourselves gushing about _that_?"

"'Cause we're not mindless flirts like Aileen," Tanya chirped.

Everyone turned to stare.

"…What?"

"Never mind. Here we are!" Mrs. Finnigan unbuckled her seatbelt and switched off the car. "Now go inside and get ready for bed right away, you hear?"

"Yup," chorused the Funny Farm, clambering out and hurrying inside. The girls went downstairs almost immediately and Dean went to his room upstairs, leaving Rachel and Seamus to put away the chairs in the garage.

"It was a nice concert, wasn't it?" Rachel said, handing the Irishman the last few chairs to hang up on the wall.

"Yeah, really nice. I'd go more often, if Aileen weren't there to torment me."

"Poor dear."

"Really!" he insisted as they went back inside. "You didn't even see her worst tonight. She's like…the Wicked Witch of the Irish Southeast."

"Well, it's a good thing you have us, then, huh?" Rachel said with a grin.

"You have no idea."

"Just remember that the next time you decide to try and kill us. I'm off to bed now, okay?"

"Yeah, it's late. G'night."

"Goodnight." Rachel waved and began to head down the stairs, but Seamus took a deep breath and said,

"Hey, wait a sec."

She stopped, looking back up at him. "Yeah?"

"I…" He fidgeted uncomfortably a moment. "Just so you know…I…I _do_ think you're pretty." He hesitated a second, then turned and headed quickly for the stairs.

Rachel grinned, her cheeks warm, and went down to bed.


	6. Clash of the UNO Titans

**Chapter Six:**

**Clash of the UNO Titans**

It rained nonstop for the next five days. The Finnigans and Dean and Rachel, who were used to and enjoyed showers and storms, were perfectly content to stay inside and enjoy everyone's company, but Tanya, Hannah, and Katelyn had severe cases of cabin fever. So the six teens had to make do with Mrs. Finnigan's Jane Austen movies (Katelyn and the boys nearly died of boredom), Mr. Finnigan's collection of handmade puzzles, the resident Sheltie puppy named Hammie, "Mr. Bean" BBC reruns, Seamus' catchy-at-first-but-quickly-annoying music library of Irish punk rock, and various other rainy-day activities.

On Thursday, the monotony was broken, at least briefly, when Mrs. Finnigan put down her novel and said, "Oh, stop looking so down in the mouth. Seamus and Dean, I know the girls probably won't appreciate this, but why don't you put in a Top Gear episode?"

_"Top Gear_?" This outburst was not from Seamus and Dean, but rather from Rachel and Hannah. "We _love_ Top Gear!"

"The car show?" Seamus asked skeptically.

"Yes, the car show," Rachel cried.

"With Jeremy Clarkson!"

"And Richard Hammond!"

"And James May!"

"And the _Stig_!"

"Oh, are you girls fans of it?" Mrs. Finnigan asked politely.

"Yeah!"

"We're petrolheads, too," she replied, smiling and turning back to her book.

"You never told us you liked Top Gear," Dean said.

_"You_ never told _us_, either," Hannah replied, poking him.

"What's Top Gear?" Tanya asked blankly.

"It's this BBC show," Rachel explained. "It's supposed to be a car-geek show, but they do the _wickedest_ stuff with their cars! Once, they went to America, and their challenge was to drive through Alabama and not die."

"Why would they die?"

"Because they each had been given poster paints and an hour with each other's cars. They did horrible things, like paint 'NASCAR sucks' and 'country music is rubbish' and 'Hillary for '08' slogans on the windshields."

"And then there was this one time where they tried to go camping with a pop-up camper," Hannah put in gleefully. "They managed to bash it into a pole, get it stuck on a road while trying to turn around, and _then_ Clarkson accidentally set it on fire."

"And then there's the Stig," Dean said.

"Ohhh, the Stig!"

"They say he sleeps upside down like a bat," said Rachel.

"He's their tame racing driver," Hannah explained to Katelyn and Tanya. "Every week, they give a new car to the Stig, and they time it 'round a track, and keep scores. You never once see his face or hear him talk."

"Who is he?"

"No one knows," said Rachel mysteriously. "But he's probably a Formula One driver, since there have been episodes where the Stig has driven F1 cars before, and they're _extremely_ hard to drive."

"Say, where did Seamus go?" Katelyn asked, sitting up.

"Right here!" Seamus came back into the room, pulling a black shirt over his head. "Do you like it?"

"'I AM THE STIG'," read Rachel. _"Yes_!" She tackled Seamus to the ground and the resulting thud of two big bodies hitting each other and the floor at nearly the same time made everybody wince.

"Well, I'll put a season in, then," Dean said over the two's half-laughter, half-groans.

An hour later, faces sore from laughing, everybody sat up from their seats in front of the television. "That was _great_!" Tanya said, jumping happily to her feet.

"I still can't believe you and Hannah have seen it," Dean said.

"Well, I heard a few sixth years talking about it our first year at school," Rachel replied from her position on the couch where she and Seamus were flopped on top of each other. "My dad's really into cars, and I mentioned it to him, and the rest is history."

"That's an amazing story," Seamus said, tickling her.

_"Ai!_ I know."

The next day was even rainier. "We could watch more Top Gear," said Tanya.

"We've watched five hours of it already today, Tanya."

"How about a movie?"

"No more telly," Dean growled.

Everyone sighed.

Suddenly, Hannah gasped. "I brought UNO!"

"'UNO'?" Seamus repeated blankly. "…Oh, yeah! We've played that before."

"Get the cards," Katelyn urged, and Hannah was back in a flash with the deck.

"Let's play it tournament style," Tanya said excitedly, pushing and shoving everyone towards the table. "We all start, and then battle for first, second, and eventually fifth and sixth places."

"Okay," everyone readily agreed, sitting down as Hannah dealt out the cards.

Everyone had high hopes for success, but, unfortunately, Katelyn rose above them all and won in the first ten minutes of play. Tanya was awarded second a few minutes later, then Rachel third and Seamus fourth. The fate of the game now rested in the sort-of-capable hands of Hannah and Dean, who now vied for the honor and glory of fifth place.

The pair looked at the cards in their hands, the other four hovering anxiously over their shoulders. Dean looked at the card face up on the table, over at Tanya and Seamus, and promptly put his cards down. "You win."

"No, honey, _you_ win," Hannah said sweetly, tossing her cards down as well.

"No, _you_ win, sweetie," Dean replied.

"No, no, _you_ win, darling."

_"You_ win, honeybunch."

"How about you both _lose_?" Seamus said impatiently.

"I like that idea," Rachel replied. "Let's start another game."

Hannah came out on top this time, with Rachel trailing by one card. Katelyn won third and Tanya fourth, and thus the title of Not-Loser was up for grabs between Dean and Seamus.

"Ready to beat the Irishman, sweetie?" Hannah asked, rubbing Dean's shoulders.

Rachel clapped Seamus on the back. "Do this for me, babycakes."

He eyed her warily, putting a card down. Rachel looked pained. "I don't think you want to—"

"Ssh."

Dean put a card down, and Hannah cheered unnecessarily.

Seamus put a card down, but Rachel cleared her throat. "Maybe you ought to—"

"Ssh."

Dean put a card down. "Yay, Dean," Hannah encouraged, kissing the top of his head.

Seamus answered the card with one of his own, and Rachel bit her lip. "Seamus, perhaps you—"

"Quiet, woman! I know what I'm doing."

"I don't think you do, dear…"

The game thus progressed, and, as was expected, Seamus lost quickly. Looking a little put out, he clapped a hand over Rachel's mouth as an "I-told-you-so" threatened to burst forth.

"Another game?" Katelyn offered.

"Yes," Dean quickly said as Rachel glared threateningly at the Irishman who also happened to be their host.

Hannah won once again, unsurprisingly, followed by Tanya, Katelyn, and then Dean.

"Death match," Katelyn whispered excitedly as Rachel and Seamus glared at each other over their handfuls of cards.

"Ssh!" the two hissed in unison.

"…Sorry…"

Rachel slammed a card down on the table. Seamus slammed a card down. And thus it went back and forth, the slams and card-drawing noises gradually growing louder and louder.

Eventually, the majority of the cards made their ways into Rachel and Seamus' hands. Ten minutes had passed and there was no appearance of the game being close to won. The tension (and boredom) in the air was almost palpable.

Rachel snapped first. With a shriek, she tossed her cards to the side and slammed her elbow to the tabletop. "I challenge you, Seamus Finnigan, to an arm wrestle. Winner take all."

"Fine!" With a competitive glint in his eye, he ditched his cards and got into position.

"This could end very badly," Katelyn said. She, Hannah, Tanya, and Dean all stepped to a safe distance away.

"Ready, set, _go_!"

Seamus won quickly, despite much huffing and puffing on Rachel's part. "Bwahaha."

"Oh, pfft," Rachel responded darkly, rubbing her bicep.

"Record that in the Annals," Seamus said excitedly. "'Sushi Beaten By Rookie'."

"All right," Tanya said happily, and pranced away to do so.

"Record this, too," Rachel called after her. "'Sushi Beats Up Rookie'!"

"You wouldn't dare."

"I wouldn't?"

"Oh…maybe you would."

"Yeah. 'At's what I thought."

"So…" Hannah said after a few moments of silence. "…More Top Gear?"

"Okay!"


	7. Darn That Irish Temper!

**Chapter Seven:**

**Darn That Irish Temper!**

Saturday was the first sunny day in almost a week, and the Funny Farm had made great plans for the afternoon as soon as Seamus returned from his morning cricket game. Unfortunately, Seamus' testosterone had plans of its own.

"Seamus is back, guys," Tanya called, bouncing up from her seat by the window. "Everybody ready to go?"

"Yup," chorused the other four, zipping up their jackets and tying shoelaces.

The front door opened and Mr. Finnigan came in, his bearded face red. "I can't believe you, Seamus. I hope you're ashamed."

Seamus came in behind him, lugging all the equipment and scowling something awful. "You'd've done the same if you'd been in my position."

"What's going on?" Mrs. Finnigan asked, coming out of the kitchen with Kathleen on her hip.

"Seamus got in a fight," Mr. Finnigan replied. The Funny Farm blinked. Seamus, fight? Whodathunkit?

Mrs. Finnigan gasped in horror. "Seamus! With who?"

"Evin Quinn."

_"Seamus!_" Mrs. Finnigan's exclamation was so loud that little Kathleen started to cry. Rachel held out her arms for the little fussing baby, and Mrs. Finnigan handed her off, keen on punishing her middle child. Once Rachel had Kathleen in her possession, the Funny Farm scurried off to the kitchen, letting the door swing shut behind them.

"Yikes," Hannah said under her breath as soon as Rachel had Kathleen happy again. "I've never seen Seamus fight with anyone but _you_ before!"

"I wonder what made him so angry," Tanya put in. "I thought he and Evin were friends. He seems nice enough."

"I've never heard Quinn say a cross word," said Dean.

"Weird," Rachel replied, bouncing Kathleen until the baby giggled with delight.

"Are you jealous?" Katelyn teased. "You _like_ having Seamus as your own private arguer!"

"So what if I do?" Rachel answered defensively.

The other four laughed, and Rachel pouted. After another few minutes, Mrs. Finnigan came in, sighing. "I'm sorry you guys had to see that."

"We're used to it," Hannah replied lightly. "What happened between Seamus and Evin?"

"He won't say, exactly," Mrs. Finnigan said, taking Kathleen back from Rachel. "But Mr. Finnigan was watching the game, and Seamus just up and knocked Evin to the ground! While they were playing!"

"He's crazy," Tanya said, as if this settled the matter.

"Thankfully, Connor Sheehan and Stephen O'Doherty pulled them off each other before any damage could be done," Mrs. Finnigan went on. "You can be sure Seamus won't get away with such utter disregard for rules or safety. He's quite grounded, loves, I'm sorry."

_"Grounded_?" The Funny Farm groaned. "Way to go, Seamus," Tanya said, scuffing her shoe along the ground.

"Where is he?" Rachel asked.

"Upstairs, in his room."

She bit her lip. "Do you mind if I go up there, and talk to him? I might be able to get him to tell me why he did it."

"Well…" Mrs. Finnigan waffled. "All right. I suppose."

"Thanks," Rachel said, and went immediately upstairs.

The Funny Farm started sniggering as soon as she was out of earshot, and Mrs. Finnigan looked suddenly curious. "Do you guys mind if I ask you a rather odd question?" she asked.

"No, shoot," Katelyn said easily.

Mrs. Finnigan wrinkled her nose. "Does Rachel….does she _fancy_ my boy?"

The Funny Farm looked at each other. "That's really not our place to say," Katelyn said eventually, shrugging apologetically. "You'd have to ask her."

"Hmm," said Mrs. Finnigan. "Curious.  
Meanwhile, Rachel was knocking at Seamus' door. "Seamus…"

"What?"

"It's me. D'you mind if I come in?"

"No. Door's open."

Rachel opened his door and stepped in, carefully avoiding the pile of cricket equipment on the floor. "How are you doing?"

"Been better," he replied darkly, tossing a crumpled-up piece of paper at a trashcan before tucking his hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling.

She closed the door behind her and went to his bed, sitting down near his knees. "Your mom tells us you're grounded."

"Yup."

"Why?"

"'Cause I fought with Evin."

Rachel hugged her knees. "I know why you were grounded. I want to know why you fought with Evin."

HE sat up partway and looked at her. "You would've done the same."

"Let me make that judgment for myself," she retorted, poking his chest. "Did he insult your mom, call you a name, what?"

"I won't say," Seamus replied flatly.

"What? Why _not_?"

"Because!"

"Because why?"

"Because you'd laugh." Seamus rolled over and shoved his face in a pillow.

Rachel sighed. "Seamus, you're my best friend. It's my _job_ to laugh at you when you deserve it." When he didn't answer, she put an insistent hand on his back. "Come on. I've known you for nearly five years now. I've seen you at your worst—I doubt this could have been that bad."

"He said he was going to ask you out," Seamus muttered.

Rachel's heart leapt so suddenly that she thought momentarily that she was having a heart attack. "So you fought him? Over that? Oh, Seamus—you're such a softie. A bit unorthodox, I'll admit, but still…"

He looked at her over his arm. "You mean it?"

"Of course!"

"So you're not…mad…?"

"Well, I think you could've handled it more diplomatically, perhaps, but I appreciate the gesture. Better you telling him no than me."

"I think he was joking, but it still made me mad."

Rachel fought a hopeful flush. "Why…why'd it make you so mad, Seamus?"

The Irishman sat up and slung his legs over the side of the bed, hugging his stomach. "Because I…because he's too old for you," he muttered, not looking her in the eye. "He's seventeen. You're barely fifteen."

"Oh." Rachel mentally kicked herself. "Right. Well, it was very noble of you."

"Mhm."

She looked at him for a few moments. "Something else is wrong."

"Hmm?" Seamus glanced at her.

"Something else is wrong—you're not just mad at being grounded."

"Nothing's wrong." Seamus rubbed his forehead with the flat of his hand.

Rachel shifted to her knees, putting a hand on Seamus' shoulder and lightly pinching him. "C'mon—why won't you tell me?"

He didn't answer, and she looked more carefully at him. "…Do you feel all right? You're a little pale."

Grudgingly, Seamus said, "My stomach hurts, that's all. Evin hit me."

"Oh, Seamus, you poor thing! Where does it hurt?"

He grimaced, indicating his abdomen. "Kinda everywhere."

"Aww." Rachel sighed sympathetically and put a hand to his forehead. "You know what? I think you're running a bit of a fever."

Seamus groaned.

"Yeah, you'd better hurry up and get better—school starts in a week."

Seamus groaned again.

"Rachel! Seamus! Lunchtime!"

Rachel looked at Seamus. "Are you up for lunch? Your mom made your favorite sandwiches."

He shook his head. "I'm…I'm actually not all that hungry."

"You really _aren't_ feeling well!" Rachel sighed. "You'd better sleep, I think."

"I'll try."

"Attaboy." Rachel hugged him gently and kissed his cheek. "Feel better."

Seamus managed a grin for her, and she patted his hand once before getting up and letting herself out.

--

_A/N: W00t for abrupt endings! XD_


	8. Rachel Tells a Finnigan Her Feelings

**Chapter Eight:**

**In Which Rachel Tells a Certain Finnigan Her Feelings**

When Rachel returned to the kitchen, everyone looked expectantly at her. "What?" she asked, eying them warily.

"Any breakthroughs?" Katelyn asked, purposefully vague.

Rachel looked quizzically at her. "Seamus isn't feeling too well, Mrs. Finnigan," she told the other woman. "He's going to pass on lunch."

"Not feeling well?" Mrs. Finnigan said dryly. "Not feeling well or not wanting to show his mug?"

The Funny Farm sniggered, but Rachel shook her head. "No—I think he's really not feeling well. His stomach hurts from when Evin hit him…and I think he might be running a fever. He felt warm when I touched his forehead."

"Oh," said Mrs. Finnigan, blinking. "Well, I hope he's not getting sick. School starts in a week."

"That's what I told him."

Mrs. Finnigan bit her lip and put the meal on the table. "You kids help yourselves…I'm going to go check on him."

The Funny Farm obeyed and quickly devoured the sandwiches, leaving only crumbs on the platter. When Mrs. Finnigan came back down, they had already put their dishes in the sink and were playing with Kathleen, who was cooing and bouncing up and down in her high chair with delight at the funny faces the five teens were making at each other.

"I suppose he really is sick," Mrs. Finnigan sighed. "I took his temperature—38 degrees."

"He's dying of hypothermia!" Tanya shrieked, completely losing her head.

"38 degrees _Celsius_," Hannah replied soothingly. "That's about…100 degrees Fahrenheit, I think?"

"Oh. Well, that's okay, then."

The other girls sighed in sympathy. "Poor thing," said Katelyn. "…I hope we don't get it."

"Well, we'll just have to see, I suppose," Mrs. Finnigan said. "If anyone's sick when school comes around, we'll go to St. Mungo's while we're in London."

"Okay."

She waved her wand and set the dishes to washing themselves. "Why don't you loves go and play a board game? It looks like rain again."

Dean actually looked excited. "Okay, guys, I've always wanted to teach you how to play Three Mens Morris!"

The Funny Farm moved to leave the kitchen, but Mrs. Finnigan cleared her throat. "Rachel, could I have a word with you a minute?"

Rachel looked rather surprised, but she nodded, and Tanya shut the door behind her. "Did I do something I shouldn't've…?"

"No, not necessarily," Mrs. Finnigan replied, sitting at the table and motioning for Rachel to do the same.

Now genuinely apprehensive, Rachel sat down, folding her hands in her lap.

Mrs. Finnigan likewise knitted her fingers together under her chin. "Rachel, love, I'm going to ask what may seem to be a rather personal question. But don't worry—I won't enjoy you any less than I do now, regardless of your answer."

Rachel nodded, wide-eyed.

Clearing her throat, Mrs. Finnigan leaned across the table and asked, "Rachel, love—do you fancy Seamus?"

Rachel blinked. "Uh…"

"I've watched the two of you interact with each other for a few years now," Mrs. Finnigan explained. "It's become more and more apparent to me that…well, that you're closer to each other than with the others."

With a defeated groan, Rachel slumped forward onto the table. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Finnigan, I know it's wrong, and I've tried so hard to forget about it!"

Mrs. Finnigan came around to sit next to the girl and put an arm around her shoulders. "So you _do_ fancy him, then?"

Rachel nodded miserably.

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about," Mrs. Finnigan exclaimed. "I'm a bit biased, of course, but I happen to like Seamus best out of all the boys here in Graiguenmanagh!"

"But he's my best friend," Rachel sighed. "I don't want to jeopardize that in any way…!"

Mrs. Finnigan squeezed her shoulders. "I don't know if I ever told you girls this, but…Mr. Finnigan and I were both born here in Graiguenmanagh…we were inseparable from when we were old enough to know what friends were! We wrote almost daily to each other when I was at Hogwarts. The summer of my seventh year, darling Jack decided that he was quite in love with me, and _I_ realized that I was quite in love with _him_! We got married after I graduated, and he went on to the Muggle university."

"When did he figure out you were a witch?" Rachel asked curiously.

Mrs. Finnigan laughed. "When Francis was born. The poor dear showed his magic rather early—Jack couldn't figure out why the lights kept going on and off whenever Francis cried. I had to tell him…"

Rachel grinned. "Seamus told me he didn't take it too well…"

"At first, yes," Mrs. Finnigan replied. "After all, I _had_ lied to him for a dozen years…but he soon came around and realized how helpful magic can be. And the rest is history, I suppose!"

Katelyn popped her head around the door. "Rachel, you coming?"

"Yeah," Rachel said, and stood up. "It was good talking to you, Mrs. Finnigan…so…you're okay with the whole…"

"Absolutely!" Mrs. Finnigan replied with a smile. "There's no harm in fancying. And I'd rather it be you than anyone else!"

--

_A/N: Haha! Tricked ya, didn't we! :D_

_Anyway, sorry it's so short—next chapter'll be longer, we promise!_


	9. Funny Farm, MD

**Chapter Nine:**

**Funny Farm, M.D.**

It was four o'clock early Sunday morning when the girls were awoken by the sounds of activity upstairs.

"What's goin' on?" Tanya asked sleepily.

"I vote Rachel goes to find out," Katelyn muttered.

Rachel groaned. "Do I have to…?"

"Yes," Hannah said, pulling her pillow up over her head.

"Fine, fine…" Rachel sat up groggily and pulled a robe on over her pajamas. "You owe me, though."

"Whatever."

She shook her head, putting her glasses on, and left the room. Upstairs, the lights were all on, and someone was banging around in the kitchen.

"Mrs. Finnigan, what's going on?" Rachel asked, opening the door.

Mrs. Finnigan looked over her shoulder as she waved her wand, pots and pans clanging against each other as they did her bidding. "Oh—thank goodness you're up already. I need you to watch Kathleen."

"Okay…why? Is something wrong?"

"Mr. Finnigan and I are taking Seamus to the hospital," she replied. "He has a fever of nearly 41 degrees."

Rachel blanched, instantly awake—that was 105 degrees Fahrenheit! "Oh, no! What do you think is wrong?"

"Hopefully nothing," Mrs. Finnigan sighed. "But we'll see. I don't know how long it'll take, so I'm pre-preparing meals for you and the other kids."

"How do you want me to handle Kathleen?"

"Just do what you've seen me do—her baby food is in the cupboard, and she should be fed every three hours or so. You know how to care for babies."

Rachel nodded.

"Moira! The car's ready!"

"Coming, Jack!" Mrs. Finnigan hastily hid her wand away in her pocket and briefly hugged Rachel. "Don't worry."

"Too late," Rachel muttered as Mrs. Finnigan hurried from the room.

When she went back downstairs, Katelyn opened one eye. "What's the news from up top?"

"Seamus is going to the emergency room."

At this, Katelyn, Hannah, and Tanya woke up fully, pushing their blankets off and reaching for glasses. "So…we're alone?" Hannah asked.

Rachel nodded.

"We ought to tell Dean."

"Yeah. Let's go."

The girls got up and went to Dean's room. When he heard the news, he got out of bed immediately, rubbing groggily at his eyes.

"What are we going to do?" Tanya asked fearfully a few minutes later as the Funny Farm sat around the kitchen table, Rachel busily making tea.

"I suppose nothing," Katelyn sighed.

"I wish we could know what was wrong with him."

"You're tellin' me."

Rachel gave everyone a mug of hot tea. "You guys will help with Kathleen, won't you?"

They traded glances. "We're not exactly qualified," Hannah said. "You're the only one who knows how…"

"Well, you can at least tell me when she starts to cry," Rachel said crossly.

"We'll try."

Rachel sat down. "I feel almost sick myself, thinking about Seamus."

"It won't do us any good to _worry_," Dean said.

"I will anyway," Rachel fretted.

"And you won't get any sleep, and then you'll take it out on us, and then be an emotional wreck when Seamus finally does come home." Hannah punctuated her announcement with a slurp of tea.

"Yeah," said Katelyn, "that sounds about right."

Rachel stuck her tongue out, and Tanya yawned. "Well, I think I'm going to go back to bed. There's no point in staying awake and getting sick ourselves."

"I second that," Katelyn replied.

"You guys go ahead," Rachel said, cupping her mug in her hands. "There's no point in me trying to sleep when I know I won't be able to…"

The four others nodded and stood up. "Wake us if you get any news," Hannah said.

"I will."

"See you in a few hours, then," Dean said, and led the tired little band out of the kitchen and back downstairs.

It wasn't until 3:30 in the afternoon, nearly twelve hours later, that the phone finally rang. Rachel, who had been dozing lightly in the rocking chair while Kathleen played with her baby toys nearby, woke with a start, and Tanya got up from the couch to answer.

"Hello, Finnigan residence? Hi, Mrs. Finnigan! How's Seamus doing? Oh, it's okay, you were probably too busy to call before this. Nope, we're just watching TV. Yes, she's been an angel; she's playing right now. Yeah. …Oh, _no_!"

The other four sat up straight. "What's wrong?" Katelyn hissed.

Tanya waved a hand to shush her. "Oh, that's horrible! Will he be okay? I see. How long until he comes out again? Oh, yikes…"

Rachel was sheet-white at this point.

"Yeah, that is bad. Okay. Well, call us when anything changes, okay? Okay. Bye."

Tanya hung up and turned to the others, looking grim.

"What's wrong with Seamus?" Hannah squeaked, her hands covering the lower half of her face.

"He's in surgery right now."

There was a startled silence. _"Why_?" Katelyn asked finally, her voice rather wobbly.

Tanya sighed. "Get this—his appendix burst. The doctors think it happened when Evin hit him."

"Merlin's beard…" Dean said.

"Mrs. Finnigan said she'd call when he got out of the OR," Tanya went on. "That could be awhile."

"That's also major abdominal surgery," Rachel said, running a shaking hand through her thick curls. "Bad things can happen under anesthesia. What if it's one of those cases when you're paralyzed by the anesthesia but you can feel every slice! What if he goes into shock! _Or cardiac arrest on the table_!"

"Here she goes," Dean muttered.

"That kind of stuff never happens in real life," Hannah soothed.

"It happens in _House_!"

"And is _this_ fiction?" Katelyn said dryly. "No."

Rachel hid her face and left the room.

"Now _I'm_ worried about that stuff happening," Tanya whimpered.

Katelyn and Hannah rolled their eyes.


	10. General Hospital: Irish Shift

**Chapter Ten:**

**General Hospital: Irish Shift**

The next morning, Mrs. Finnigan woke the Funny Farm and announced that Seamus was awake and asking for them. This made them all understandably very excited, and the thirty-minute drive to the hospital was near torture. ("Seamus could've died before you even _got_ here!" Rachel exclaimed loudly, looking at Dean's watch.)

Ennistymion Community Hospital was not unlike hospitals in the United States, though all the doctors and nurses had nametags that said things like "Dr. Owen ó Muireadhaigh" and "Nurse Finola," and the cool-voiced PA system spoke in a thick sophisticated accent. The receptionist behind the front desk had long green fingernails and greeted them in a warm but thick Dublin twang, and her scrubs were decked out in shamrocks.

"Hello, Mrs. Finnigan. I'm assuming you're here to see your son?"

"That I am," Mrs. Finnigan replied, scribbling in the sign-in book.

"All right. Well, he's been moved to room 1211, right down that hall and to your left."

"Thank you. Say, loves, why don't we stop at the gift shop and get Seamus some balloons?"

"I'll go," Katelyn volunteered, and took the handful of Euros Mrs. Finnigan handed her.

"Get green ones," Tanya called after her. "They'll look good with his eyes."

"He's not going to _wear_ the balloons, Tanya," Dean said.

Tanya stuck her tongue out at him. "Who says he won't?"

In a few minutes, Katelyn was back with a bunch of green and yellow "GET WELL SOON!!" balloons in hand.

"Are we ready to see Mr. Organ-Bursting?" Mrs. Finnigan asked cheerily.

"Yeah!"

So Mrs. Finnigan led the little band down the hall to room 1211. The door was open, and through it, they could see Mr. Finnigan sitting by the bed and laughing as though he'd just heard a wonderful joke, Kathleen on his lap.

"Surprise!" Katelyn cried, running into the room with the balloons bouncing off the ceiling.

Seamus was lying in the hospital bed, looking rather pale but grinning. A machine nearby beeped rhythmically as it monitored his heartbeat, and his hand was bruised and bandaged with an IV, but he struggled to sit up as his friends came into the room.

"Hi, Seamus!" Tanya exclaimed. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore and a bit loopy, but good," Seamus replied with a grin.

"You gave us all a really bad scare, there, y'know," said Hannah scoldingly. "Never, _ever_, do that again!"

"I'll try, I'll try."

Rachel came by the bed, but before she could say anything, Kathleen wailed and held her chubby arms up in the air for Rachel to pick her up. Sighing, she did so, and walked the little girl around the back of the room where there was a small mirror and some tongue depressors to play with.

"Here are your balloons," Katelyn said proudly, dropping the things by his bedside.

"Very nice, thank you."

"They match your eyes," Tanya announced.

"I'm not sure my eyes are lime green, but thanks anyhow."

Hannah sat on the side of his bed. "So—d'you have a scar?"

"Yeah," Seamus said happily. "Wanna see it?"

"No," Hannah said quickly, but the others readily agreed. Grimacing with pain, Seamus adjusted his blankets and then pulled up his hospital gown to reveal a red and gross-looking incision in his side, the stitches glistening with the antibiotic salve covering most of his abdomen.

_"Cool,"_ said Katelyn and Dean in unison.

Hannah looked liable to be sick.

"So they took it out?" Tanya asked.

Seamus nodded. "Yep. I am now one organ less than you guys!"

"Lucky duck," Tanya muttered.

The group fell into silence for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from Rachel and Kathleen in the corner as the baby played with her own reflection.

"Is Rachel mad at me?" Seamus said in a low voice.

"Hardly—d'you honestly think she went two whole days without worrying about you, you moron?" Katelyn said kindly. "She's just tired—and really testy."

"Ahh."

"So," said Dean. "How does it feel, wearing a dress?"

Hannah, Tanya, and Katelyn cracked up, but Seamus just glared. "I just had major abdominal surgery, and all you can do is call me a girl?"

This only made the three girls laugh harder, and Kathleen giggled along with them. Seamus gave a grudging snort and motioned for Rachel to come closer. "I haven't seen you in a few days, Su. Come and keep us company."

Rachel silently sat in a chair by the balloons, and Kathleen happily amused herself with their brightly colored weights.

"You look very pretty," Dean said to Seamus.

The three girls laughed, but Seamus reached for a bedpan to throw at his mate—unfortunately, his newly emptied abdominal cavity was sore and so he only succeeded in a squawk of pain and his parents' prompt decision that visiting hours were over.

"Ah, man," the girls and Dean sighed.

Mrs. Finnigan took Kathleen from Rachel and put her on her hip. "Yes, I'm afraid Seamus has been a bit over stimulated."

"You make it sound like I'm Kathleen's age!"

"Well, you're a day out of surgery and recovering from appendicitis. Can you really do much on your own at the moment?"

Seamus scowled. "Well, _fine_, then. But can I just have five minutes? I want to talk to Rachel."

Rachel blinked.

Mrs. Finnigan looked between them. "…All right. Five minutes, tops."

"Thanks." Seamus turned on his side, grimacing, to face Rachel, but no one else moved. He looked back. "Um…a little privacy, please?"

"Oh, right," said Katelyn, and the teenagers and Seamus' family went to the back of the room.

_"Leave!"_

Throwing him alarmed looks, they finally all left the room and closed the door partway.

Satisfied that there were no eavesdroppers, Seamus sighed. "What's the matter? You look really tired."

"I was only a little worried," Rachel replied testily, rubbing at her nose.

"You don't need to cry."

"I'm not crying."

"Liar."

Rachel cleared her throat, looking at the ceiling with misty eyes. "We…for a while, we didn't even know what was wrong with you, and then suddenly you're in surgery, and…"

Seamus tried to take her hand, but couldn't quite reach; blinking hard, Rachel drew her chair as close as she could and slipped her hand into his. "Well, I'm okay now," Seamus said, trying his best to make light of the situation.

She caught a rogue tear with the back of her other hand and nodded.

"I'd think you'd be happy. Come on, please stop crying, you know I hate it when you cry."

"I'm sorry," she said thickly, scrubbing at her streaming eyes.

Seamus bit his lip. "Look—my bed goes up and down!" He pushed the _Adjust Bed_ buttons on the little remote nearby, making the upper half of the bed angle higher and lower. "Look! Fun! I'm—oh, ow, that actually really hurts."

Rachel gave a reluctant laugh at this, and Seamus, his ears pink, reached up to wipe a stray tear off her cheek. "You know," he said gruffly, after a moment's pause, "there's been something I've kinda been meaning to tell you…"

"PDA!" Katelyn announced, coming into the room.

Seamus dropped his hand from Rachel's face, obviously none too pleased with Katelyn's interruption. "Oh, shove it, Barcanic. What do you want?"

"Rachel. It's time for us to go."

Sighing, Rachel stood up. "Fine. I'll see you later, Seamus."

"Bye. Make sure to get some sleep tonight."

"I'll try."

"Come on, you slow poke, you," Katelyn said, pulling Rachel from the room.

"Ow! Stop yanking on my arm!"

"Bye, guys," Seamus said dryly.


	11. Bet My Money on the Bobtail Nag

**Chapter Eleven:**

**Bet My Money on the Bob-Tail Nag**

Seamus recuperated in the hospital for another day or so before he was allowed to come home, and the other five languished at his house in expectation for his re-arrival. But at last, he did come home.

"I see the car! I see the car!"

Tanya's excited shout drove the other Funny Farmers to leap up from their seats and run to the window. "Oh, _finally!_" Hannah exclaimed, pressing her nose to the glass.

Before Mrs. Finnigan had the chance to reach the door, Katelyn had flung it open herself. "Welcome back, you completely inconsiderate boy!" she cried, hurling her arms around Seamus' neck.

"Hi to you, too," Seamus groaned, patting her back.

"For goodness' sake, Katelyn," Tanya scolded. "Let him at least come inside!" The moment Seamus stepped foot indoors, though, Tanya leapt on him and squeezed exuberantly.

"Hypocrite," Katelyn challenged.

Hannah hugged Seamus next, and Dean clapped his shoulder and tried to look manly. "Welcome back," Hannah squealed.

"It's good to be back."

"Especially since school starts in four days!" Tanya felt a need to remind everyone.

They groaned in unison, and then Seamus turned to Rachel, a bit sheepishly offering a hug. Rachel, who had been hanging back and holding Kathleen, quickly deposited the baby in her mother's arms and flew into Seamus'.

"Ow—!"

"Sorry," she replied, but made no move to release him from her iron hug.

Seamus just looked happy to be there, despite his obvious pain, but Katelyn poked Rachel in the ribs—hard—giving the taller girl a knowing look until she shied away from Seamus.

"So," said Hannah. "Now that you're back, what do you want to do?"

"Just rest," he admitted.

"Rest!" Tanya exclaimed. "Rest? All you've been doing the last few days is lying around in bed! If anything, you need to take a jog around the block. You know, get some exercise."

The other five teens gave her such a withering look that she twitched. "Fine. Let's watch a movie."

"Okay!"

The band traipsed willingly into the parlor, and Dean rummaged around in the cabinet until he found a movie that everyone wanted to see (Hitchcock's _The 39 Steps_) and put it in the DVD player.

Mrs. Finnigan obligingly dimmed the lights as everyone settled down, and brought them warm woolen blankets to fight the Irish chill in the air. "Seamus, love, are you sure you won't be too worked up by the movie? Because we still have those delightful _Postman Pat_ tapes from when you were in primary—"

"No, Mam," he said quickly. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

_"Yes."_

"Well, please try to rest as much as possible. Lie down if you need to."

"Okay," he groaned, lowering himself onto the couch with a grimace and pulling a blanket over his knees. Rachel wrapped another around herself and sat shyly nearby as the menu popped up and Dean pressed play.

As it turned out, Seamus was too tired to care much about the movie, and was sound asleep within the half hour. Once she was positive he was out, Rachel cuddled close and put her head on his shoulder, and was also asleep within a few minutes.

When the movie, which was rather short, finished, Hannah reached over and switched off the TV. "I'm willing to wager on this term."

"Huh?" Katelyn said, stretching.

"Rachel and Seamus. I think their issues'll get resolved this year."

The other three Funny Farmers looked over. "Yeah, I agree," said Tanya.

"Naw—I think it'll last until at _least_ sixth year," Dean countered.

Hannah shook her head. "I'll bet you a Galleon it'll be _this_ year."

"You're on."

The two shook hands briskly, both obviously confident that _they_ were right.

Tanya yawned. "I think that, whenever they figure things out, it'll be in, like, an explosion of drama. You know, like during a big fight, Seamus will spaz and spill the beans, and Rachel will freak out and run away, and it'll be up to us to pick up the pieces until it finally clicks for them."

"Sounds about right," said Dean.

"Well, _I_ personally think they'll do the one thing we're not expecting," said Katelyn. "Y'know—like, _be mature._ I bet we'll be walking down a hallway one day and interrupt one of their secret makeout sessions, or something like that."

"Ew." Tanya shuddered. "I hope not."

"I'll bet you a Galleon it'll happen that way."

"Fine."

And Katelyn and Tanya struck the deal.

"What if they _do_ get together?" Hannah said, putting her head on Dean's shoulder.

"I think it'll go up in flames."

_"What?"_

Katelyn shrugged. "They fight now so much. Imagine how it'll be once they're dating! They're both very passionate people, and their relationship is house of cards."

_"I'll_ bet you it _won't_ end in tears," Hannah retorted. "They're each other's security blanket. They won't willingly end anything together."

"Fine. A Galleon?"

"Yeah." The two girls shook hands.

"I hope Rachel and Seamus don't ever find out that we're betting on them," Dean said as the sudden realization came to him. "It might not end pretty."

The girls blinked. "Good point. Mum's the word."

"Gotcha."

And they started another movie.

--

_A/N: The Excuse—Schmurf had the handwritten version of the story for a while, so I didn't have anything to type! Sorry for the lengthy delay! :(_


	12. Mid Pleasures and Palaces

**Chapter Twelve:**

**'Mid Pleasures and Palaces**

On Friday morning, the Funny Farm packed up their trunks and prepared to leave Graiguenmanagh for Hogwarts. Mrs. Finnigan, with a Tupperware container full of Floo powder, helped them through the large fireplace in the parlor, and momentarily they were tumbling out of the green flames into the Leaky Cauldron, where Tom waved toothlessly. After a stop at St. Mungo's to have Seamus' appendix-less abdomen properly treated, they took their first-ever London sightseeing trip, visiting Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, the Tower where numerous historical figures were beheaded and tortured ("Whoops!" Seamus said, pushing Dean almost into an iron maiden), Madam Tussaud's ("This wax replica is particularly ugly," Tanya noted, staring pensively at the disgruntled-looking security guard), and even the Victoria and Albert Museum on special request of Rachel, who spent an hour poring over Queen Victoria's rich, Gone With the Wind-esque gowns.

Understandably, it was extremely difficult to enter Platform 9 ¾ and see the puffing scarlet steam engine that would take them to nine months of work.

"If your stomach starts to hurt again, go straight to Madam Pomfrey," Mrs. Finnigan was telling Seamus. "I've already sent ahead and told them about your condition."

"I don't have a _condition_, Mam!"

"Nevertheless, I told them about it." She kissed him as the Hogwarts Express blew its whistle. "Be good."

"I'll try."

"Goodbye, girls, goodbye, Dean!"

"Bye, Mrs. Finnigan!"

She waved, and they were about to climb onto the train when someone's big black dog bounded past. _"Puppy!_" Tanya cried, and would have chased it if Katelyn and Hannah had not caught her by the arms and dragged her back onto the train.

"But the puppy—"

"We're leaving the station."

"Oh."

They took their trunks and squeezed into a compartment that seemed quite a bit smaller than it had last year. Obligingly, Seamus and Dean put everyone's luggage in the overhead bay and took their seats, Rachel's owl screeching unhappily from its place behind Tanya's trunk.

"We may have to look into splitting up for next term's train ride in," Dean groaned. "We're hardly little enough to fit all in here anymore."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Tanya, squashed between Seamus and the wall.

"We'll learn to deal," Rachel said confidently. (_She_ didn't seem to mind being crushed between Seamus and the wall.)

No one else looked very confident in this pronouncement, and silence reigned for a few minutes, the train chugging away under their feet. At last, Seamus leaned back in his seat and said, "I'm glad you guys came to visit."

"Aw, we're glad you put up with us," Katelyn said, kicking him fondly.

He shook his head. "No—I'm _really_ glad."

Everyone looked at him. "Why's that, then?" Hannah asked.

Seamus sighed and looked at his hands. "Me mam didn't want me to come back to Hogwarts."

_"What?"_ Rachel cried. "Why?"

"I think…I think it's because of Harry."

Everyone blinked. "Harry _Potter_?" Hannah asked. "Why?"

"She thinks he's dangerous." Seamus snorted. "I tried to tell her that she's being overprotective, but…"

Katelyn growled. "Everyone's against Harry!"

"Well," said Dean, "there's not a lot going for him."

"Harry-hater."

"We don't _hate_ him," Seamus said defensively. "We just don't…really…believe him. At least I'm not afraid of him like my mam. But you gotta admit—the whole You-Know-Who coming back and Cedric's death and all that? The evidence is kinda stacked against him."

"No, it isn't!" Rachel exclaimed.

"'Fraid it is."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Have you been reading the _Prophet_? It is."

"All right, you two," Katelyn interrupted. "Don't make me put you in time-out."

Rachel and Seamus grumbled.

"So, Seamus, why did your mom change her mind?" Hannah said.

He leaned back in seat, crushing Rachel's arm and Tanya in the process. "Well, once she saw you guys and how much you all liked it at Hogwarts, she decided to let me go back this year."

_"This_ year?" Tanya echoed.

"She said she'd think about sixth and seventh years."

The compartment was silent. "So…" Rachel said finally, "we might never see you again?"

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say _never_," Seamus replied, his voice suddenly gruff. "We could always, y'know, write to each other…"

The prospect of their Irishman being torn from their grasp made the Funny Farm suddenly very solemn. Tanya clung to his arm, Rachel shyly patted his hand, and Katelyn kicked him a little less violently than before, but the train ride to Hogsmeade Station was considerably more subdued than in previous years.

There was a steady rain as they disembarked onto the platform and loaded into the horseless carriages, aptly marking the group mood. But when they entered the Great Hall, with its candles and torches ablaze and golden plates beckoning, their moods began to lift.

"It's good to be home," Hannah sighed with a smile.

"Here, here," replied the other five.

"Terry!" Tanya exclaimed then, and hurried off to greet her Ravenclaw friend.

"Oh, there's Hermione," Rachel said. "I've heard she's Prefect this year—let's go say hi."

"I'll save our seats," said Seamus, sitting down on a bench.

Katelyn put her hands on her hips. "You just don't want to go over there because of _Harry_!"

"So?" Seamus retorted.

"You realize you have to share a dorm with him, right?"

"Don't argue," Rachel—yes, Rachel—sighed, pulling Katelyn away. The girls went over to congratulate Hermione and greet Harry and Ron, leaving Seamus and Dean to sit at the long Gryffindor table in silence.

"I don't understand why you don't trust Harry's word," Hannah said to Seamus when they came back. "We just told him we believed him and he seemed so relieved."

"'Cause it's _ridiculous_," Seamus replied, his eyes flashing.

Once again, Rachel stepped between the two and put a hand over Seamus' mouth. "Stop fighting with everyone, you little leprechaun. Everyone else, no mention of any classmates. Supper's about ready, anyhow."

She took her hand away from his face, leaving a red splotch where her thumb had been, and sat down next to him. The other girls found their seats, and the chatter in the Hall climbed to an even higher level as anticipation for the impending meal increased.

A moment later, the doors banged open and Professor McGonagall, a scroll clutched in her hand, strode purposefully into the Hall, leading that year's newbies. "Were we ever that small?" Seamus said in Rachel's ear.

"Impossible," she whispered back.

Seamus was about to reply, but the Sorting Hat opened its mouth and began to sing.

In times of old when I was new

And Hogwarts barely started

The founders of our noble school

Thought never to be parted:

United by a common goal,

They had the selfsame yearning,

To make the world's best magic school

And pass along their learning.

'Together we will build and teach!'

The four good friends decided

And never did they dream that they

Might some day be divided,

For were there such friends anywhere

As Slytherin and Gryffindor?

Unless it was the second pair

Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?

So how could it have gone so wrong?

How could such friendships fail?

Why, I was there and so can tell

The whole sad, sorry tale.

Said Slytherin, 'We'll teach just those

Whose ancestry is purest.'

Said Ravenclaw, 'We'll teach those whose

Intelligence is surest.'

Said Gryffindor, 'We'll teach all those

With brave deeds to their name,'

Said Hufflepuff, 'I'll teach the lot,

And treat them just the same.'

These differences caused little strife

When first they came to light,

For each of the four founders had

A house in which they might

Take only those they wanted, so,

For instance, Slytherin

Took only pure-blood wizards

Of great cunning, just like him,

And only those of sharpest mind

Were taught by Ravenclaw

While the bravest and the boldest

Went to daring Gryffindor.

Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,

And taught them all she knew,

Thus the houses and their founders

Retained friendships firm and true.

So Hogwarts worked in harmony

For several happy years,

But then discord crept among us

Feeding on our faults and fears

The houses that, like pillars four,

Had once held up our school,

Now turned upon each other and,

Divided, sought to rule.

And for a while it seemed the school

Must meet an early end,

What with dueling and with fighting

And the clash of friend on friend

And at last there came a morning

When old Slytherin departed

And though the fighting then died out

He left us quite downhearted.

And never since the founders four

Were whittled down to three

Have the houses been united

As they once were meant to be.

And now the Sorting Hat is here

And you all know the score:

I sort you into houses

Because that is what I'm for,

But this year I'll go further,

Listen closely to my song:

Though condemned I am to split you

Still I worry that it's wrong,

Though I must fulfill my duty

And must quarter every year

Still I wonder whether Sorting

May not bring the end I fear.

Oh, know the perils, read the signs,

The warning history shows,

For our Hogwarts is in danger

From external, deadly foes

And we must unite inside her

Or we'll crumble from within

I have told you, I have warned you...

Let the Sorting now begin.

The Funny Farm blinked and looked slack-jawed at each other. Not once, in their four years—now five—at Hogwarts, had they heard the Sorting Hat sing a song with such concrete urgency. Its lyrics had always concerned the strengths and weaknesses of each house, sometimes a bit of history—but never dire warnings.

"What d'you suppose that _meant_?" Dean asked under the cover of applause.

"I suppose it meant unite," said Tanya.

"…Thank you, Captain Obvious…"

Hannah shushed everyone. "It's time for the Sorting!"

"Abercrombie, Euan."

Thus the students were forced to wait all the way to "Zeller, Rose," before Dumbledore stood up and spread his arms wide. "To our newcomers—" he said loudly, his voice echoing against the Hall walls, "welcome! To our old hands—welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

The Funny Farm laughed and did as they were bid, and silence reigned at their end of the table while they were busy stuffing their faces. At last, when they had all finished, Rachel sighed.

"I hope they have Quidditch again this year."

"Yeah," Seamus replied. "None of that bloody Tournament stuff."

"That turned out _so_ well last year," Dean said, looking over at the still gloomy-looking Hufflepuffs.

At that moment, Dumbledore stood up again and everyone in the Hall quieted down to listen. "Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students—and of few of our older students ought to know by now too.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the 462nd time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes—" (the Funny Farm looked more than a little guilty—was that a rule, now?) "nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.

"…Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on—"

_"Yes!_" Rachel hissed, jerking back to attention. When she had recovered from her bout of excitement, she looked up to see that Dumbledore had stopped talking and that everyone was staring at the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, the squat woman dressed in pink. Apparently, she was standing and attempting to make a speech—the likes of which no one had ever seen!

"Thank you, Headmaster," she giggled, "for those kind words of welcome."

"And you are…?" Seamus muttered.

"When are tryouts?" Rachel answered.

Everyone shrugged.

_"Hem hem._ Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!"

The girls wanted to pay attention—really, they did. But Seamus and Dean had gotten out their wands and were making the leftover food do some very interesting things, and before they knew it, they had completely disregarded the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Because of this, they also missed Dumbledore's announcement of when Quidditch tryouts would be, as well as his closing statements. "I feel kind of bad for missing the new lady's speech," Hannah said as they were filing out of the Hall.

"What could she have said that was _so_ important?" Dean snorted. "I mean, I doubt it was anything more than 'ooh, so happy to be here,' 'we're going to be best friends,' etc."

"Are you sure it wasn't anything important?" Hannah asked worriedly.

"Naw," Katelyn replied. "If it was, I'm sure we'll find out what it was eventually."

And so, with that vote of confidence, everyone went upstairs to bed.


	13. Message For You, Sir

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**Message For You, Sir**

It took all of History of Magic and passing period on their first day of school to catch on that something was wrong with Seamus. The concoction that Snape had assigned them was difficult enough as it was, but Seamus had somehow managed to botch everything. His cauldron was billowing a thick yellowish smoke reminiscent of sulfur, while the potion should have been shimmering silver; he clattered around and was more haphazard than usual; all the while the Funny Farm looked on in concern.

"What's the matter with Seamus?" Katelyn asked Dean when they met at the supply cupboard. "He seems a bit…upset.

As she spoke, Seamus' flickering flames spat once and went out. With a poorly muffled expletive, he dropped to his knees and began stabbing the embers with his wand. Rachel took pity and knelt down beside him when Snape's back was turn, quickly rekindling the fire with her own wand.

Dean sighed. "He and Harry had a falling-out last night."

"Have they ever had a falling-_in_?" Katelyn said dryly.

"This one was bad. It started out decent as possible, but then Harry had a go at Mrs. Finnigan, and Seamus just flipped. They aren't talking to each other."

"What was it over in the first place?"

"Over Harry, surprisingly enough. Seamus told him straight up what the deal was, and Harry didn't take it too well."

"Big surprise."

"Back to your cauldrons," Snape snapped as he passed. Dean and Katelyn made faces and obeyed reluctantly.

Seamus was stirring feverishly when they returned; his potion had stopped smoking and had turned a hopeful steely grey color, and Rachel kept sneaking glances at him as she added diced newts' tongue to her cauldron. Snape swept past Seamus on his way to the back of the room, however, and the breeze caused by his whispering robes made the flames under Seamus' cauldron sputter and go out once again; before Seamus had a chance to win himself the first detention of the year, Rachel was at his side, rekindling the flame with her wand and soothingly squeezing his arm.

"Potter, what is this supposed to be?"

The brief moment was shattered by Snape's smug voice, and all activity in the room ceased as students, keen to see someone else punished, looked around to Harry.

"The Draught of Peace," Harry said. Hannah could see Harry's knuckles whitening.

"Tell me, Potter…can you read?"

The girls were too disgusted by this flagrantly abusive teacher to hear Draco Malfoy's laugh and their once-friend Shelby's answering titter.

"Yes. I can."

"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter."

"'Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.'"

"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?"

Harry mumbled something unintelligible.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No," Harry said loudly. "I forgot the hellebore."

The Funny Farm winced, and Snape sneered. "I know you did, Potter, which means this mess is utterly worthless. _Evanesco._"

The humiliation was almost too much for the Gryffindors to bear; they looked, shamefaced, at their feet as Snape gave their homework and let them out to lunch.

"Look on the bright side, Seamus," Rachel said, trotting ahead of the other four to catch up with him. "Harry's got it worse than you."

"Mhm," Seamus grumbled.

Rachel bit her lip. "What's the matter? Your potion turned out all right."

"Mhm," he grumbled again.

"Well fine, Mr. 'I-Hate-The-World," Rachel said, miffed. "All I was doing was attempting to be a friend and make you feel better. See if I try _that_ again!"

"Fine, then," Seamus snapped back.

"Fine! I'm leaving!"

"Good riddance!"

Rachel tossed her hair and stomped back to the other four, jaw jutted out angrily. "Seamus is being a jerk," she told them, loudly enough that Seamus could hear.

_"I'm_ not the one being a jerk!" Seamus bellowed, making the other students in the hall look around in alarm.

The other five Funny Farmers looked at each other. "This whole fight with Harry thing is going to get old _really_ fast," Tanya sighed.

"You're telling me," Dean said dryly. "You don't have to share a room with him!"

"Poor dear," said Hannah sympathetically, and squeezed his arm.

"I think _Seamus_ is who we're supposed to be pitying," Katelyn said.

Rachel sniffed in an irritated way. _"I_ feel no pity."

"Oh, hush."

As they entered the Great Hall for lunch, a postal owl was fluttering above the heads of the students already eating. "Looks like someone missed the morning delivery," Hannah commented, finding a seat and helping herself to an egg sandwich.

The owl alighted on the table in front of her.

"Ha," said Katelyn. "Someone _you_ know missed the morning delivery."

Hannah stuck out her tongue and untied the letter. "Oh, it's from Haley!"

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Tanya said. "Open it!"

Everyone waited somewhat less-than-patiently as Hannah read the lengthy letter. "Well?" Rachel said at last. "Is something wrong? Oh, I have a bad feeling—what if she's _pregnant?_"

"Yes, that would be awful," Dean said dryly.

"Here's what she says," Hannah cut in.

_"'Hola, dearest chicas, my darling adopted Funny Farm sisters! And a totally equally impartial greeting to my hermana's Significant Other, Dean, my adopted Funny Farm brother! And another hi to Seamus, my other adopted Funny Farm brother, who was so nice as to invite my darlings to Ireland! Wow!_

_"'Anyway. Happy Fifth Year Of Hogwarts! It should be so much fun for you guys (except for your O.W.L.s, of course. Those aren't fun). Sorry I didn't write you sooner. Olli-bear and I have been busy (wink-wink-nudge-nudge-say-no-more-say-no-more).'"_

"I'm going to spew," Seamus said.

"Ignore him," Rachel said. "Continue!"

_"'But now Oliver has gone off to play Quidditch across Europe for the next few months and I'm staying home to rest because I'M PREGNANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'"_

"I told you! I told you!" Rachel shrieked.

"That's so awesome!" Katelyn shouted.

"I'm gonna be a auntie!" Hannah wailed.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" said Tanya.

"Well, congrats," Seamus yelled above the noise. "You'll be changing nappies come summer holidays. Trust me. I know."

"We'll be adopted aunts and uncles, guys," Rachel gasped. "Oh! I can't wait!"

Katelyn held her goblet of pumpkin juice up before taking a healthy swig. "Well, I can't say I like kids, but I'll try to make an exception for Haley, Jr."

"Gee, you'll be a great parent someday," Hannah said dryly.

"Well, maybe I won't get married," Katelyn retorted.

"Please," said Dean, putting his arm around Hannah, "what girl _doesn't_ want to get married?"

"Chauvinist," Rachel said loudly.

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Sure, _I_ want to get married. But Katelyn's not a normal girl—she doesn't even like chocolate!"

Everyone gasped at this sacrilegious statement and turned toward Katelyn, expecting an adamant denial of this accusation, but instead she shrugged and helped herself to some meatloaf.

"Anyway," Rachel said pointedly, bringing everyone back to attention, "is there more of the letter?"

"Oh! Yeah. Here.

_"'It's true! I'm actually pregnant! Oliver didn't want to leave me home alone, but we live close enough to his parents' house so in case anything goes wrong I can stay with them. Meanwhile, I've been stuck here at home with not much to do except watch BBC soap operas and balance things on my tummy. (My record so far is two couch pillows and the cat. Hopefully I'll improve as the kid gets bigger! I'll keep you posted on my performances. Anyway. Back to being bored.)_

_"'I know you guys haven't seen my new house yet, but hopefully when Easter comes you can! Yes—you're all invited here for Easter! Yay for chocolate! ANYWAY. It's an old Wizarding house, and the previous occupant left all his spellbooks here. Guess what I found in one? A way to become an Animagus! Yeah! I'm going to become an Animagus! It'll be so cool, and I've always wanted to become one. I WILL REGISTER WITH THE MINISTRY LIKE A GOOD WITCH. (That was in case Fingolfin gets intercepted. What a good owl he is.)_

_"'I hope I get the form of a wolf, or similar animal. I know you can't choose, but that'd be pretty sweet if that happened! Anyway, I'm sure they have the same book in the Hogwarts library—I think I remember seeing it there once. It's a little, tiny book. But don't go looking, children, because I think I remember seeing it in the Restricted Section, first shelf on the left. Actually, don't do anything, because underage Animagi are illegal and it's very dangerous. _

_"'Other than that, have fun, chicos! Write to me, because I'll have plenty of time to read your letters, and I'll keep you updated as well. Bye! Love you all! Have a great fifth year!_

_"'Mucho love,_

_"'Haley Wood.'"_

Hannah folded the letter back up and heaved a satisfied sigh. "I'm so happy for her," she said.

"Me, too," said Tanya. "Being an Animagus sounds awesome!"

"Haley doesn't have to worry about us doing it," Rachel said. "We don't do illegal things, even when bird-brained friends tell us how accidentally."

They sniggered a bit, and then got up to go to Divination.

--

_A/N: Yay, we're back! Schmurf finally gave me the missing scene, so I've been able to wrangle things into place. :D_


	14. Madam ToadFace

**Chapter Fourteen:**

**Madam Toad-Face**

The next class after Divination was Defense Against the Dark Arts. As the Funny Farm walked down the hallway, none of them could remember who the new teacher was! (She had obviously made a great impact on them all.) It certainly couldn't be Mad-Eye Moody again, seeing as he hadn't really been Mad-Eye in the first place.

When they entered the classroom, however, they remembered quite quickly. Professor Umbridge sat at the teacher's desk, wearing the same fluffy pink cardigan of the night before, along with a black velvet bow on the top of her head.

"She looks like a toad with a large fly on its head," Seamus whispered with a chuckle as they took their seats.

"Well, good afternoon!" Umbridge said when the whole class was seated.

"Hey," a few people replied, not including the Funny Farm. They were beginning to get the feeling that Umbridge wouldn't be their favorite Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher ever.

"Tsk, tsk," said Professor Umbridge. _"That_ won't do, now, will it? I should like you to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," the students chanted back.

"There, now," said Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

"It should be more like 'Good afternoon, Madam Toad-face'," Katelyn muttered to Tanya as she put her wand away and unhappily got out her quill and textbook. Tanya let out a shrieking laugh, but when Umbridge turned and glared at her, she quickly shut up.

With a tap of her wand, Umbridge wrote on the blackboard: "Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles."

"Oh, boy," hissed Hannah sarcastically. "This'll be exciting, I can just _tell._"

"We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year," said Umbridge. "Copy down the following, please."

She tapped the board again and more words appeared, outlining the course aims. For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied everything down, Umbridge asked, "Has everybody got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

There was a dull murmur of assent.

"I think we'll try that again," said Umbridge. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, 'Yes, Professor Umbridge' or 'No, Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge" rang through the room, except for Katelyn, who quietly coughed, "Toad-face."

Tanya heard her and grinned. Meanwhile, Umbridge told the students to read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners'.

"No need to talk," she added. With that, she settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with her pouchy toad's eyes.

It was desperately dull, almost as bad as listening to Professor Binns. Even Rachel and Hannah, who were quick and proficient readers, found the chapter incredibly boring and useless for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. So, instead of reading, they began to pass notes to each other; Hannah's and Dean's were, of course, love notes.

Rachel suddenly noticed that they weren't the only ones not reading; nearly the entire class was preoccupied with something else, and that was watching Hermione. She didn't even have her book open, but had her book open and had her hand raised, trying to get Umbridge's attention. Soon, the whole class stopped reading the tedious chapter and was watching Hermione's mute attempt to catch Umbridge's eye. Professor Umbridge tried to ignore her, but when everyone was staring at her instead of their books, she decided she could ignore it no longer. So, acting as if she had just noticed, she asked,

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?"

"Not about the chapter, no," Hermione started. Rachel got a feeling that it wouldn't end well for her friend.

"Well, we're reading, now," Umbridge replied, showing her small, pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims," Hermione insisted.

Umbridge raised an eyebrow. "And your name is…"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them carefully," Umbridge said in a voice of determined sweetness.

"Well, I _don't,"_ Hermione said bluntly. Hannah cringed. "There's nothing written up there about _using_ defensive spells," Hermione went on. There was a short silence in which many students turned to frown at the aims on the blackboard.

"I can't imagine a situation arising in my classroom that would require using defensive spells," said Umbridge. "You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron ejaculated loudly.

"Students will raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr…"

"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air. Umbridge continued smiling more widely as Harry and Hermione immediately raised their hands. Her pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before addressing Hermione.

"Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?" Hermione said.

"Hermione's right," Rachel spoke up, not bothering to raise her hand. (Her voice was loud enough to be heard over Hermione's, anyway.)

"She's always right, she's the smartest in our entire class," Hannah agreed, making Hermione blush.

"Be quiet and raise your hand if you wish to speak," Umbridge snapped, suddenly cross. The Funny Farm girls crossed their arms defiantly and simultaneously. Sighing, Umbridge turned back to Hermione. "I'm afraid, Miss Granger, you are not qualified to decide what the whole point of any class is. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way—"

"What use is that?" Harry interrupted. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a—"

_"Hand,_ Mr. Potter," sang Professor Umbridge.

Harry thrust his fist into the air, but Umbridge promptly turned away from him, facing other students with their hands raised.

"And your name is?" Umbridge said to Dean.

"Dean Thomas."

Hannah, who was his table partner, looked up at him admiringly. (Her big, strong man was going to take on the mean, old toad-witch!)

"Well, Mr. Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it? If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free—"

"I repeat," said Umbridge, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dean, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

"No, but—"

"I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school, but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible, indeed—not to mention," Umbridge added with a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."

"If you mean Professor Lupin," Dean said loudly, "he was the best we ever—"

_"Hand,_ Mr. Thomas!" Umbridge shrieked.

"You tell her, Dean!" Hannah urged him loudly. "Oops! Did I say that out loud? I am _so_ sorry!" She dramatically held her hand to her heart, then rolled her eyes.

Everyone gaped at her.

"And you are?"

"Hannah Schreiter."

"Well, Miss Schreiter," Umbridge said dangerously, "it is very unsuitable for a young woman like yourself to behave in such a childlike manner."

"Pfft," Rachel said, perhaps a bit louder than she intended. "Why don't _you_ grow up?"

Everyone fell silent, except for Katelyn, who laughed maniacally and yelled, "Yeah, Sushi!"

Umbridge, by now, had stopped smiling completely and was livid. "Excuse me?" she snapped.

"You heard me," Rachel retorted, going a little pale but sticking out her jaw in determined defiance. "_You're_ the one who's treating us like babies. Everyone else understands that You-Know-Who's back, except for you and your stupid Ministry. What will happen when You-Know-Who starts attacking _us_? We'll have no way to defend ourselves because _you_ won't teach us practical defense!"

"You will not be attacked!" Umbridge shrieked over the spattering of applause. "I am concerned about the unsafe learning environments your past teachers have put you in. Your previous actually performed illegal curses on you!"

"Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" Dean said dryly. "Mind you, we still learned loads—"

"Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!"

_"Stop yelling!_"

Everyone shut up. The shouter had been Tanya!

The thin little Russian stood up sharply (though she hardly seemed taller with her feet on the ground). "You leave my friends alone," she said determinedly, her accent growing thicker the angrier she got. "Or I'll hex you myself!"

As surprising as Tanya's outburst was, however, Parvati Patil flung her hand up and continued the argument of using defensive spells. "Isn't there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.?" she asked. "Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the countercurse and things?"

"As long as you've studied the theory hard enough, there's no reason why you shouldn't be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," Umbridge replied dismissively.

"Without ever practicing them before?" Parvati asked incredulously.

"I repeat, as long as you've studied the theory—"

"And what good is theory going to be in the real world?" Harry asked loudly, his fist in the air again.

Professor Umbridge looked up. "This is school, Mr. Potter," she said softly, "not the real world."

Rachel scoffed in disbelief.

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?" Harry argued.

"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter."

"Oh, yeah?" said Harry, growing red with rage.

"Who would possibly want to attack children like yourselves?" inquired Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.

"Hm, let's think," said Harry in a voice that made it obvious he had already thought. "maybe…Lord Voldemort?"

The reactions were typical. Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

The class went silent and still.

"Now, let me make a few things quite plain," said Umbridge. "You've been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead—"

"He wasn't dead!" Harry insisted, "but yeah, he's returned!"

"Mr. Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-House-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself," Umbridge said in one breath. "As I was saying. You've been told that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie."

"It's _not_ a lie!" Harry shouted. "I saw him, I _fought_ him!"

"You tell her, Harry," Dean urged.

"Don't worry, _we_ believe you," Rachel said with a pointed look at Seamus.

"Surely you don't truly believe him?" Umbridge declared with that same fakely sweet smile. "You're just simply misled by his wild storytelling, but don't worry, the Ministry will have you back on track in no time."

"Are you kidding me?" Harry shouted. "The Ministry is full of half-wit morons!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said triumphantly. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock, my office. I repeat, this is a lie. If any of you have questions about these rumors, come see me sometime outside of class. I am here to help and so is the Ministry. I am your friend. Now, finish reading chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners'."

The Funny Farmers would have wanted to continue the fight, but their desire to leave class without detentions was even greater, so they kept their mouths shut. For now, at least.

Soon, the bell rang and everyone hurried out of Umbridge's classroom, except for Harry, who stayed behind on Umbridge's orders.

Once out of earshot, Hannah said, "That Umbridge woman's a…a…well, she's a bitch!"

The Funny Farm gasped. They had never heard Hannah swear before!

"Hannah, that's a terrible thing to say," Rachel chided.

"But I'm inclined to agree with you," Katelyn added.

"Speaking of agreement…" Rachel turned to Seamus. "How come you didn't back us up, Finnigan?"

"You know how I feel," Seamus replied defensively. "Harry's full of boloney. I do agree with you, though—Umbridge is nasty."

"But if you don't believe Harry, you're siding with Umbridge," Katelyn said.

"I'm not siding with her."

"You don't agree with Harry, either," Tanya said.

Seamus was stuck. "Can't I just be in between?" he asked crossly, and stomped ahead of them.

"He needs major help," Dean remarked.

"We'll get him on the right path," Tanya said confidently.

Rachel grinned. "Even if we have to use force."


	15. Bowtruckles Get Short Ends of Sticks

**Chapter Fifteen:**

**Bowtruckles Get the Short End of the Stick**

After lunch, the Funny Farm went to their next class, Care of Magical Creatures. The students gathered around Hagrid's small cottage outside of the castle and waited for their replacement professor, Grubbly-Plank. After several minutes, she emerged and urged the students to follow her to the edge of the Dark Forest. The Funny Farm noticed that Seamus was attempting to be as far away from Harry as they walked the short distance to the forest, moving to the opposite side of the group.

"Now, class," said Grubbly-Plank, "it's time to start. Today, we'll be studying an interesting creature, whose home is up in the tree branches where it is easily camouflaged among the sticks. Can anyone tell me what creature it is?"

Hermione's hand shot up.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"They're called bowtruckes," she answered, "and they can easily hide because their appearance is that of a stick."

"Excellent! Ten points for Gryffindor."

In the back, Malfoy gave a disgruntled snort.

Professor Grubbly-Plank then assigned pairs and gave each pair a bowtruckle to feed and study. Tanya and Katelyn worked together, Rachel with Seamus, and of course, Hannah was with Dean. It seemed that they were paying more attention to each other than the bowtruckle. They would both try to feed it a leaf, but instead they'd end up holding hands and gazing dreamily into each other's eyes.

A table over, however, Rachel and Seamus were having somewhat less of a romantic time. Seamus was working steadily, but he had gotten it into his head to hold the bowtruckle, and was stuffing it rather roughly with shredded lettuce, tightening his grip on it more and more as the minutes wore on. Rachel had been noticing his restrained violence for some time before she finally said, "Something wrong?"

Seamus grunted and shrugged.

"I only ask because you're murdering our bowtruckle."

Seamus looked down with an "Oh!" and released his grip on the poor, bug-eyed insect. As soon as it was free, it skittered over to Rachel, who gently scooped it up and gave it a piece of carrot to chomp. Once their experiment was content again, she glanced up, and saw the reason for Seamus' surliness—Harry was at the table next to them.

"You have _got_ to be kidding!" she exclaimed. "Finnigan, you and I are going to have a little talk about what exactly your problem with Harry is."

Seamus glared at her, shredding lettuce with a vaguely threatening air. "I don't have to tell _you_ anything."

Rachel heaved an overexaggerated sigh. "Well, _excuse_ me for attempting to be a good friend," she snapped, throwing the poor, defenseless bowtruckle on the table and crossing her arms. Seamus stuck his his nose up and crossed his arms, too, but his defiance wavered almost imperceptibly.

Thankfully, the class was over a moment later, and the bowtruckle lived to see another day.

--

_A/N: A brief filler! Sorry!_


	16. Talk About Bad Sportsmanship!

**Chapter Sixteen:**

**Talk About Bad Sportsmanship!**

By the end of the week, all the Funny Farmers were heartily sick of hearing about their O.W.L.s As much as the professors tried to stress the importance of doing well on these the SATs and ACTs of the Wizarding world, the six teenagers began to think that having a decent job someday was overrated.

"It just sounds like more work to me," Dean grumbled as he and Seamus, Hannah, Tanya, and Katelyn all traipsed loyally up to the stands to watch the first real Quidditch practice of the season.

"It's all in one's perception, you know," Hannah said.

"Yeah—and I perceive it as being a giant pain in the arse."

"I second that motion," said Katelyn lightly.

Hannah's mutterings of "uneducated savages, all" were drowned out as they came out onto the stands by a distinctly less good-natured sound.

"Look at all the Slytherins!" Tanya exclaimed, gazing out over the pitch at the sea of green and silver. "This _is_ Gryffindor practice…right?"

"Should be," said Hannah.

"They're booing," Seamus said shortly.

Hannah, Dean, Tanya, and Katelyn all froze to listen. Sure enough, the rival house was chanting various things like "Go home, Mudbloods!" and "Where's your Firewhiskey now?"

"How nice," Katelyn muttered.

There was a sudden upswing in the noise. The Funny Farm looked, and saw that the Gryffindor team, dressed in their scarlet practice uniforms, had come out onto the pitch. Katelyn whistled loudly, but a gaggle of older Slytherins nearby told her to "shut the bloody hell up."

"I'd like to show them what-for," Seamus grumbled.

"There, there," said Hannah gently. "Violence begets violence, you know."

The Gryffindor Quidditch team had done no recent violence to the Slytherins, but they were nevertheless constantly bombarded with cruel insults and petty but painful jabs, to the effect that the entire team performed rather badly. Rob, who was struggling to be the Keeper Oliver Wood had been, suffered greatly, and his discomfort was rubbing off on everyone else.

On one particular instance, a Bludger got past both Weasleys, so concentrated they were on their younger brother, and went hurtling towards the crowd near the Funny Farm. Rachel raced desperately after it, clearly out of practice from her year off; she managed to beat it away, but only after narrowly avoiding crashing into the group of Slytherins.

Hannah and Tanya cheered as Rachel whooshed back to the pitch, but the Slytherins she had forced into ducks were less than pleased. As they straightened, one had the gall to call her a "filthy Mudblood bitch."

The girls were sufficiently outraged for a few moments, but soon forgot about the jerk. That is, until they heard a commotion. Seamus had apparently lost his temper at this and gone over to the offending name caller and planted a lovely Irish calling card on the upperclassman's jaw—with his fist.

Dean leapt back into the fray and pulled Seamus out by the collar, dragging him back to safety to nurse his bloody nose.

"You're screwed, mate," he said as the Slytherins ran from the stands. "You can count on a detention for sure.

"I don't care," Seamus retorted thickly, sopping up the blood with his robe.

"You'll care if Umbridge gives it to you."

"Oh, that old bag doesn't frighten me," Seamus scoffed.

--

When Rachel climbed back into the portrait hole some time later, Hannah, Dean, Tanya, and Katelyn looked curiously at her. "You're back early," Hannah commented.

Rachel rolled her neck. "Well, Katie got a bloody nose, and Fred and George gave her the wrong end of one of those blasted Blood Blisterpods. Ended up helping them get her to the Hospital Wing."

"Oh, no!" Tanya cried as Rachel sank into a chair. "Will she be all right?"

"Madam Pomfrey says she'll need a night in the hospital ward, but other than that she'll be fine."

"That's good."

"Mhm."

"Especially now that you can help us with this History of Magic essay," Dean said happily.

Rachel groaned. "What is it now?"

"The goblin essay. We all say that Binns wants us to explain the revolt of 1543, but Seamus says he wants us to explain the _causes_ of the revolt."

"Where _is_ Seamus, by the way?" Rachel said, sitting up and dragging all the essays toward her.

"Detention. With _Umbridge_."

"Ooh," Rachel said with a grimace. "I've heard nasty things about her detentions—what did he do?"

"He got in a fight with some Slytherins," Tanya said.

"He _would._ The jackass…"

"The Slytherin called you a…oh, what was it again? Oh, yeah—a 'filthy Mudblood bitch'," Katelyn informed her lightly. "Hence the fighting."

Hannah smirked as Rachel went a little pink. "I hope you feel bad."

Rachel didn't answer.

A half-hour later, Seamus climbed through the portrait hole, a little pale and with a dusky bruise lurking under the freckles on his cheek. Wordlessly, Rachel went over to him and hugged tightly; he grunted as she squeezed his appendix-less abdomen, but otherwise looked impassively at the wall in front of him.

"Katelyn told me what happened, Seamus," Rachel said softly. "And I want you to know I'm really sorry for being such a jerk to you. Will you forgive me?"

"Fine," Seamus grumbled.

Rachel released him and tried to brush his hands with her fingertips in an affectionate way, but she only succeeded in making him swear and finding her fingers covered in blood. "Seamus, what happened?" she cried.

"Nothing," he attempted as everyone immediately gathered around, but Rachel caught the wrist of his right hand and found, to her utter dismay, the word BULLY carved deep into his skin. Blood trickled from the open wounds.

As Hannah gagged, Rachel applied the sleeve of her Quidditch robes to the injury. "I thought you had detention!"

"I did," he replied darkly, wincing as she dabbed at the cuts. "This was Umbridge's idea of teaching me a lesson."

"The old bag," Rachel hissed, pulling him over to a chair and forcing him to sit as she took a few tissues from Hannah to replace her sleeve.

"What happened?" Tanya squeaked.

"She gave me a quill," said Seamus, "and told me to write 'bully' twenty times on a piece of parchment. Turns out the ink was my own bloo—" He broke off abruptly as Rachel's gentle dabbing touched a particularly raw spot.

Dean shook his head. "I don't know about the rest of you, but that Umbridge woman really gives me the creeps. I don't like her."

"Give her time," said Tanya kindly. "I'm sure she'll ease up once she gets more comfortable at Hogwarts."

"I can't see her getting more comfortable than this," Seamus said grimly.

Rachel had found a few Muggle Band-Aids in her bag and was busy securing a pad of tissues to the oozing injury on Seamus' hand. "If this is her idea of detention, I don't have much hope in her improvement."

When Seamus heard the sounds of Band-Aids being unwrapped, he looked down at Rachel's handiwork as if he'd just noticed she was there. "Oh," he said, rather stupidly. "…Thank you."

"You're welcome. I owe it to you."

"You don't owe me anything. I could've just gone to the Hospital Wing."

"Well, at least you won't bleed all the way there," Rachel said with a fierce blush, and returned to her task.

Getting several meaningful looks from everyone else, Seamus let her fuss now quite unnecessarily over his hand, his scowl gone and replaced almost with a smile. Almost.


	17. The High Inquisiwhatsit

**Chapter Seventeen:**

**The High Inquisiwhatsit**

The next morning, Hannah was reading the _Daily Prophet_ when she said suddenly, "Ooh, look! Our favorite person." She turned the paper to show everyone the headline:

**MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM**

**DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER 'HIGH INQUISITOR'**

Everyone stared for a few moments. Finally, Tanya looked around and said, "The 'High Inquisiwhatsit'? What's that?"

Hannah scanned the article. "Apparently…Umbridge is going to act as some sort of Spanish Inquisition—testing the teachers, etc. Two members of the Wizengamot have resigned in protest."

"Good for them," Rachel said firmly. "I hate this idea. The school is not a branch of the government. It's like Nazism—Hitler Youth!"

"That's our good little Republican," Katelyn cooed.

"That's almost exactly what Griselda Marchbanks said," Hannah noted. "Too bad she has connections with rebel goblins."

"Oh, don't listen to that trash," Rachel said in exasperation, taking the paper from Hannah and crumpling it. "It's becoming more and more biased."

"Don't diss the _Prophet_, now," Seamus warned.

"Oh, hush, dear."

Hannah looked rather miffed at losing her paper, but she said calmly, "No, I've noticed that too. Sloppy journalism."

"It's just plain sick," Rachel replied. "The Ministry's been sticking its nose into too many things lately."

"You'll remember what happened last year," said Tanya quietly. "The Ministry didn't regulate the Tournament well enough."

"That may be true," said Rachel, "but it was the Ministry who wanted the Tournament in the first place."

Everyone fell silent.

--

The next day, they found Umbridge in what had been their favorite class: Transfiguration. McGonagall had Seamus hand out the previous day's homework, and he managed to 'accidentally' trip spectacularly over Umbridge's extended legs. She looked as though she'd like nothing better than to stick her wand somewhere painful, but thankfully there were rules about such things.

As Parvati handed out the mice to be used in the day's lesson, Dean (who already had a very good grasp of the Vanishing Charm, thanks to Rachel, who was in sixth year Transfig) got a rather devilish look on his face. Hannah noticed this just as he reached for his wand, and hissed, "Whatever you're thinking, Dean, _don't_."

Dean Transfigured two of the mouse's little paws into pins. As it attempted to scurry away from him, the pins snapped and the mouse fell to the desk, squeaking in pain and fright.

Hannah barely muffled a shriek of horror, and moved as far away from him as she could.

McGonagall had seen all this, and she said quite firmly, "Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention."

Scowlingly, Dean repaired the mouse's pin legs and Transfigured them back into normal mouse legs. But Hannah would have nothing to do with it. When Tanya slid her a note that said _"What on earth?_", Hannah wrote back angrily, _"No boyfriend of mine tortures animals. Consider our relationship __on hold__!"_

Tanya gaped a little when she read Hannah's response, and quickly passed it to Seamus and Katelyn. Even _they_ shook their heads at Dean!

Therefore, when Rachel met up with them at lunch, she found that Hannah had temporarily broken up with Dean and everyone else was inclined to take her side.

"Really, guys," Rachel sighed as she sat down. "I leave you alone for _one_ _class_ and you descend into chaos."

Hannah harrumphed loudly and went to sit with Parvati and Lavender.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Dean slumped forward onto the table. "Mates," he groaned.

"What you did was despicable, really," Katelyn said. "The poor mouse!"

"Seriously, mate," Seamus said.

"I fixed it," Dean muttered. "And I'm sorry."

"Sorry for hurting the mouse or sorry Hannah broke up with you?" Rachel asked archly.

Dean scowled. "Both."

"At least he's honest," Tanya said.

"How do I get her back?" Dean moaned. "I already tried apologizing."

Rachel, Tanya, and Katelyn looked at each other. "You might try being more of a gentleman," said Katelyn. "Y'know, open doors for her and carry her books. We girls really like that."

Dean sat up, looking interested. "Okay. Be a gentleman. Got it."

"Pet names," Tanya giggled. "Call her dear and sweet pea."

"Fresh flowers," Rachel said quietly, looking a bit wistful. "There's nothing like a handful of fresh flowers to brighten up one's day."

Nearby, Seamus dug in his pocket for a pencil and began surreptitiously taking notes.

"Go for walks with her," Tanya said. "Nice, long walks along the lake."

"What am I supposed to _say_?" Dean asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Talk, dummy!" Katelyn said. "Talk about books. Movies. Politics. Us. Whatever!"

Dean nodded. "Okay. So—be a gentleman, pet names, flowers, walks, and talks. Anything else?"

Tanya and Katelyn shook their heads, but Rachel said, "Notes."

"What? You want me to take class notes for her?"

"No, no," Rachel said, turning a little pink. _"Write_ her notes. Tell her, in no uncertain terms, how you feel. Make sure she knows! Don't make her guess!" Her voice had grown louder by the end of this little speech, and after a moment of awkward silence she got up and left, leaving two very confused boys in her wake.

"Merlin's beard, what was that about?" Seamus asked.

"I think we have a pretty good idea," Katelyn replied, glancing at Tanya (who actually got the Rachel and Seamus reference for once).

Dean shook his head. "Whatever. I hope this works on Hannah!"

"It will, never you worry," Tanya assured him sweetly.

As it turned out, Hannah didn't appreciate Dean trying to tug her books out of her hands in an attempt to carry them for her. Nor did she like being called "honeybunch," "sweet pea," "darling dear," or "sugar lips" at every available moment by the boy she was trying to ignore. Therefore, she was not particularly receptive to his attempts at getting her to take long, meaningful walks with him. Plus, the flowers he got her made her eyes swell and nose run.

"I thought you said you knew this girl," Dean grumbled that night at dinner.

"Well, how were we to know she'd hate it?" Rachel said. "I just told you thinks I'd want to have done to me."

"Yeah, well, that's worked bloody well," Dean said snappishly. "She hates me now more than ever."

"That's not gone well," Seamus chimed in with an oh-so-helpful Top Gear quote.

Tanya reached across the table and patted Dean's hand. "How about this, Tofu," she said. "Rachel and Katelyn and I will go over to Hannah and convince her that you're sorry."

"We'll _what_?" Katelyn exclaimed.

Dean looked relieved. "Thank you!"

Together, Rachel, Tanya, and Katelyn got up and went to where Hannah was sitting with several fourth years. "Hannah, Dean says he's really sorry," Rachel began.

"And it was our idea for him to…well, do all that stuff that annoyed you," Tanya said helpfully.

Hannah looked up at them, her mouth full with mashed potato. "I know he's sorry. And I kinda figured you'd put him up to it."

"Then why don't you forgive him?" Katelyn said indignantly.

"Because he needs to learn his lesson," Hannah retorted.

Rachel let out another loud noise of disgust. "You people! What is wrong with you, that you take being together for granted all the time?" And with that, she grabbed her bag and stomped from the Great Hall.

Seamus and Dean saw this, and Seamus sighed. "That's not gone well," he repeated gravely, and returned to his supper.


	18. A United Students Summit

**Chapter Eighteen:**

**A United Students Summit**

The next day, Hannah came 'round and decided Dean had been punished long enough. With emotional speeches about their undying love for each other and the importance of animal rights, their relationship was mended good as new, and peace reigned in the Funny Farm.

That is, for the next few weeks.

It was late on the last Friday in September, the day before the first Hogsmeade weekend, that the Funny Farm was up struggling to finish a particularly nasty Potions essay so their wouldn't have to worry about it on Sunday night. The rest of the Tower had gone to bed, or was at least getting ready to do so, and the fire was beginning to die down.

"Do you think we ought to write about the South American version of the bone-repairing serum?" Rachel was asking. "I mean, Snape doesn't ask for it, but it might improve our argument."

Before anyone else had a chance to answer, Hermione Granger appeared out of seemingly nowhere and said, "I did."

"I thought you'd gone to bed, Hermione," Hannah said over the sudden scratching of quills as everyone hurried to include the South Americans.

"I had," Hermione said. "But then I thought, perhaps there's something I ought to tell you."

"Well, what is it?" Tanya asked.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder and came to sit around the table with everyone else. "I know you all despise Umbridge," she said in a low voice.

Everyone automatically leaned in. "Yeah, of course," said Rachel.

"Well…" Hermione paused. "I've bee thinking…what if a small group was formed? We're clearly not learning practical magic in Umbridge's Defense Against the Dark Arts, magic that we'll need, especially if You—especially if things get more dangerous."

"Agreed," Katelyn said firmly.

"So what if…what if a small group of us got together after-hours to learn _real_ magic? Would you guys be willing to come?"

The six of them looked at each other. "I think so," said Rachel. "But who would teach it? And don't you think that Umbridge would have a cow if she found out?"

"Well, we won't _advertise_ the group, certainly," Hermione began a little uncomfortably.

Seamus was beginning to get a glint in his eye. "Are you trying to get at a secret club, Hermione? You, a prefect?"

"Well, there's nothing in the rules against it," Hermione sputtered.

"I like the idea."

"It's not a secret club, Seamus," she tried to say, but Tanya cut her off.

"Ignore him, Hermione. It's late. But who did you say would be teaching it?"

"Well, I was rather hoping Harry would, actually."

Rachel looked at the others. "I don't know how I feel about being taught by a peer…"

"Understandable," Hermione said quickly. "But tomorrow there's to be a meeting. Won't you at least come and hear what he has to say?"

"I think we can manage that," Hannah said. "When and where?"

"11:30," replied Hermione. "At the Hog's Head pub."

Tanya made a face. "Ew, Hermione! Why there?"

"Exactly. If we meet there, there's less of a chance that we'll be overheard by students. Not many Hogwartsians go in there. At least, not the _reputable_ ones," she added with a sniff.

"Smart thinking," said Rachel. "We'll be there."

"Wonderful. Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight."

As soon as the girls' dormitory door was heard shutting, Seamus began packing away his books. "I'm not going," he said matter-of-factly.

Everyone turned to gape at him. "What?" Rachel said. "Why?"

He shrugged mutely.

"Aw, mate," said Dean in exasperation, "don't tell me it's because of Harry."

"I refuse to listen to his You-Know-Who bullshit."

"Seamus Finnigan, you are the stubbornest cuss I've ever met!" Rachel exclaimed. "I think Hermione has a valid point, but you won't listen to her just because of your stupid pride."

"I won't go," Seamus repeated firmly, standing up.

"Fine," Dean, Rachel, Hannah, Tanya, and Katelyn retorted in unison.

"Have fun going to Hogsmeade all alone," Rachel flung at his retreating back.

In response, he stomped wordlessly up to the boys' dorm and slammed the door. "Don't worry," said Tanya sweetly. "I'm sure he'll come around soon enough."

--

The next morning, Tanya, Hannah, Dean, Katelyn and Rachel went to the Hog's Head without Seamus. The pub was set in a grimy little storefront in a part of Hogsmeade they'd rarely gone to; the cobbled streets were unswept and littered with trash. Inside the Hog's Head it was hardly better; Rachel made sure that Tanya stayed close by at all times.

"This is…lovely," Katelyn muttered.

"There's everyone," said Rachel with relief.

Just as they hurried to sit with Harry, Hermione, and Ron, the door opened and in came another stream of their schoolmates: Neville and Lavender, then Parvati and Padma, closely followed by a pair of older Ravenclaws and Loony Lovegood; then Rachel's teammates Katie, Alicia, and Angelina, several Hufflepuffs including Ernie Macmillian, Rachel noticed with a sympathetic pang for Seamus even though he wasn't there), several of their Ravenclaw classmates, and then of course Ron's brothers with their friend Lee.

Fred went over to the bar and ordered butterbeers as everyone wrangled for seats nearest Harry. "Cheers," Fred crowed, tossing bottles out to everyone. "Now, cough up—I haven't got enough gold or all of these…"

"I'm telling you, Seamus is going to miss out," said Tanya as she withdrew two Sickles.

"I'm more concerned about his maturity level," Rachel replied, only half-teasing.

Hermione stood up at this moment. "Well…um…hi."

"Hi," Tanya chirruped.

This didn't seem to ease Hermione's obvious nerves. "Well…erm…hehheh…I guess you know why you're here. Um…well, Harry here had this idea—I mean, _I_ had the idea—that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts—and I mean, _really_ study it, you know, no that rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts—"

"Hear, hear," said one of the Hufflepuffs.

"Well," Hermione went on, almost smiling, "I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands. And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells—"

"You mean there won't be much book stuff?" Dean said to the Funny Farm, looking excited.

"…I want to be properly trained in Defense because," Hermione was saying slowly, "because Lord Voldemort's back."

Everyone jumped and Katelyn's chair tipped over, but Rachel and Hannah couldn't help by notice the conviction in Hermione's voice as she spoke. That meant that easily the smartest girl in their House believed Harry. (Rachel made a mental note to tell that to Seamus.)

"Well, that's the plan anyway," said Hermione. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to—"

"Where's the proof that You-Know-Who's back?" asked one of the Hufflepuffs, voicing the question no one else had dared to.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it."

"You mean, Dumbledore believes _him_." The Hufflepuff pointed at Harry.

"Who're _you_?" Ron asked around a mouthful of butterbeer.

"Zacharias Smith. And I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes _him_ say You-Know-Who's back."

"Look, that's not really what this meeting was supposed to be about—"

"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry suddenly. He stood up and the group of students went suddenly very quiet. "What makes me say You-Know-Who's back? I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe me, and I'm wasting an afternoon trying to convince you."

He sat down again, and the air seemed to go out of everybody, as they'd been hoping for some fantastic speech.

"All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts," said Zacharias. "He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered. I think we'd all like to know—"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone," Harry said loudly, his face turning a bit pink, "I can't help you. I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

In the ringing silence he left behind, Tanya started to stand, but Katelyn and Hannah pulled her back down into her chair.

Hermione laughed nervously. "So, like I was saying…if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to—"

One of their classmates cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, Hermione. But Harry, is it true that you can produce a Patronus?"

"Erm…yeah."

"A corporeal Patronus?" she asked.

Harry blinked. "You don't know Madam Bones, do you?"

"She's my auntie. I'm Susan Bones."

And with this, a flurry of excited chatter burst out. At last, Hermione said, "The point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

"Sure," said Katelyn brightly. (Everyone else just nodded.)

"Right, then," said Hermione. "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week—"

"Hang on," said Angelina, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

There was general agreement, which sparked yet another outburst of really unrelated blather and related arguing, much to the chagrin of the Funny Farm, who liked things done neatly and efficiently. But eventually, every week in an empty classroom was decided on, and Hermione took out a quill and piece of parchment.

"I—I think everybody here should write their name down, just so we know who was here," she said. "But I also think—I also think that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge—or anyone else—what we're up to."

Of course, when the list came around to the Funny Farm, Katelyn was the first to grab the quill and start scribbling her name down. But Rachel reached across both Dean and Hannah to stay her hand. "If we sign this, guys," she said slowly, "we can't tell Seamus."

"Sure we can," Katelyn replied lightly, and went to finish signing.

Hermione leaned over to them. "I wouldn't recommend you tell him if you sign." Her tone was ominous.

Katelyn froze, looking at the other five. "Should we?" she asked.

"I want to sign," Rachel fretted. "But I don't like the idea of not telling Seamus."

"He's already said he doesn't want in," Dean said as Katelyn and Hannah signed their names with flourishes. He signed the parchment and handed it to Rachel.

She hesitated for a few moments, staring at the names on the list, before finally heaving a sign and scrawling her signature and passing it on to Tanya.

"Attagirl," Katelyn praised her as they gathered their things and left the Hog's Head. But Rachel continued to look troubled.

They ran into Seamus on their way back to the castle. He had been sitting on the side of bridge, tossing pebbles into the bubbling stream below, but when he saw them approaching, he jumped to his feet and tried not to look too happy to see them.

"So how was your meeting?" he asked as soon as they stopped.

Katelyn was blunt. "We signed something, Seamus, promising we wouldn't talk to anyone about it, or anything we do in the future."

Seamus tried to hide the fact that his face fell at these words, but everyone saw it. "Oh. See…I was kinda hoping you might…teach me what you learn later, so I won't have to…" He cleared his throat. "Anyway. So…everyone signed?"

Everyone nodded, though he'd been looking at Rachel when he asked. "I'm sure you won't miss out on much," she said softly, looking ashamed at herself.

"Say," said Hannah, noticing a bunch of flowers tucked into Seamus' bag. "Who're the flowers for, lover-boy?"

Seamus turned beet red. "It's not what you think," he said rather loudly, retrieving said blossoms.

"Then what?"

"I was messing around with some spell ideas, and accidentally made these," he said, still red to the tips of his ears. He shoved the flowers into the hands of a very startled-looking Rachel. "Take them. I just—wanted to say sorry for…for blowing up last night."

Rachel, still rather stunned, said, "Oh, Seamus—you didn't have to. _I_ blew up at _you_. Not the other way around."

"Just take them," he grumbled.

Rachel tried to hide her smile. "Well, they're very lovely. Thank you."

In turn, Seamus tried not to look too please with himself. The other four Funny Farmers let them have their adorable but painfully awkward "moment" for another few minutes, then promptly called an end to the foolishness and dragged the two back to the castle.

--

_A/N: Sorry this is so late! Life, you know??_ _And Merry Christmas! :) Also, Sushi apologizes for any confusion about The Funny Farm and the Prisoner of Azkaban - it has not been updated. I accidentally uploaded this chapter to that story. XD_


	19. Let The Killing Begin!

**Chapter Nineteen:**

**Let The Killing Begin!**

The morning of the following Monday, the Funny Farm woke and gathered together in the common room as usual. Today, however, there was a particularly nasty clot of people by the portrait hole, making it extremely difficult to get out to go to breakfast.

"Merlin and Morgana, what's going on?" Seamus said, bumping some poor, defenseless first years out of his path.

"There's a notice on the notice board," said Tanya.

"Yes…that's what it's there for…"

"Not your _everyday_ notice," Tanya replied serenely. "It looks official."

At this, Rachel and Seamus elbowed their way through the crowd, Hannah, Dean, Katelyn, and Tanya following along. On the pegboard, written in very official-looking handwriting, read thus:

_**"By order of:**_

_**"The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts**_

**"All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded.**

**"Any Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.**

**"Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).**

**"No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.**

**"Any student found to have formed, or belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.**

_**"The above is in accordance with**_

_**"Educational Decree #24.**_

_**"Signed,**_

_**"Dolores Jane Umbridge**_

_**"High Inquisitor"**_

Rachel, Hannah, Tanya, Katelyn, and Dean looked at each other. "You don't think she found out about 'the club' already, do you?" Rachel asked fearfully.

Hannah opened her mouth to respond, but at the last moment caught sight of Seamus' face, ashen and drawn. "Why—Zorro, what's the matter?"

He stared at them all, looking quite distressed. "Don't you guys understand?" he said, eyes wide.

"Obviously not. Enlighten us."

"…'Is defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.' _That includes the Funny Farm!_"

They gaped at each other. "But…we're not a club," Katelyn said weakly.

"She can't possibly consider _us_ a club," Rachel scoffed loudly. "We're just a group of friends who happen to call themselves a 'club.' Really, guys, there's no need to worry. Can we go down to breakfast now?"

The other five Funny Farmers weren't as confident as Rachel, but they reluctantly nodded and followed her out of the common room.

--

"I'm still worried about this whole student organizations things," Seamus said. He was seated on the sill of one of the common room windows, loosening his tie as he gazed out towards the rain- and wind-swept Quidditch pitch.

"Rachel said we needn't worry," Tanya replied. "Go fish."

She, Hannah, Dean, and Katelyn were all gathered together on the floor by Seamus' feet, attempting to play Muggle card games with Wizard cards. As Katelyn reached for a card from the deck, two of the ones in her hand sang out loudly, "four of hearts" and "four of spades!"

"Bugger," Katelyn said darkly as Hannah grinned.

"Rachel's not always right, you know," Seamus retorted.

The other four gasped in mock affront. "Really?" Dean breathed.

"Shut up, stupid."

Hannah said, "Any fours, Katelyn?"—grinning—"But you're right, Seamus. We have good cause to be worried. I think we ought to be _very_ careful about what we say."

"Yeah—no induction ceremonies on the front lawn," Dean said dryly, recalling their very on 'induction' two years ago.

The portrait hole swung open at this moment, letting in eight soaking wet Quidditch players. None of them looked very happy.

"Welcome back!" Tanya had the gall to say to them.

"I refuse to help anyone with their History of Magic homework until I change into my pajamas and dry my hair some," Rachel said as Dean opened his mouth.

The team stalked away to their respective dorms to change. "Merlin," said Seamus. "Rather glad I'm not on Quidditch, then."

"I can't imagine it was too fun flying in this weather," said Katelyn, and looked out the window. "Ooh!"

"No, it's _ahh_, back in the throat more," said Seamus, deadpan.

Katelyn sniffed. "Monty Python does not apply in this case. There's a rather weather-beaten owl outside that window of yours—why don't you let it in?"

Seamus glanced over his shoulder, then leapt from the sill and threw open the window, drawing in a very bedraggled and windswept owl from the pelting rain. The thick letter it was carrying was smudged with water, but Seamus closed the window and said, "Oy! It's for me."

"Read it," Hannah urged. "Maybe Kathleen started walking!"

Seamus slit the envelope, and immediately pulled out a smaller one from inside. "That's odd—this one's for Rachel and Dean."

Dean reached for the letter, but Seamus sat on it and pulled out the rest from the main envelope. Barely two lines into it, he went an alarming ashy color, got up abruptly, and went to the boys' dorm.

"Where's Seamus going?" Rachel asked, coming back down the stairs as she tied her robe.

"No idea," said Hannah. "But you and Dean got a letter."

Dean lunged for the envelope that Seamus had left behind, but Rachel got there first. "It's from Mrs. Finnigan," she announced, opening it. "I'll read it out loud.

_"'Dean and Rachel, loves:_

_"'Sorry to bother you at school like this, but know that I would never do so unless prompted to by extraordinarily grave circumstances.'"_

"Uh-oh," said Tanya.

_"'Last night, my father the Captain (Seamus' grandda, as you both know) was found murdered in his bed.'"_

Everyone gasped. _"Murdered_?" Rachel cried. "How horrible!"

"Keep reading," Dean growled.

_"'…was found murdered in his bed. I'm not at liberty to disclose any more, as owl post is exceedingly easy to intercept, these days, but should you agree to my proposal, I assure you, you'll learn all we know._

_"'My proposal is this. Tomorrow morning I shall arrive at Hogsmeade to take Seamus home for the funeral on Saturday. He'll be back by Sunday evening. As you know, he and his grandda were very close, and it would be a great comfort to me if you both would be there to support him and keep his mind occupied. You will miss only the weekend and Friday, no more. I have sent Professor Dumbledore a post informing him of this, so if you wish to come you need only send me a letter and remind Professor McGonagall of your absence._

_"'Of course, if you don't wish to come, it's all right. We will not be a lively group, and you don't know the O'Malley side of the family very well._

_"'With much love,_

_"'M. Finnigan_'"

There was a stunned silence. Hannah and Tanya were slightly teary, and Dean and Katelyn were dry-eyed but somber.

"Well?" Katelyn said at last. "Are you going?"

Rachel blinked. "Of course! Did you think we would abandon Seamus like that?"

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Hannah stabbed him with her wand. "Of course we're going," he said stiffly.

"Then you write to Mrs. Finnigan," Rachel sighed, standing. "I'm going to see how Seamus is doing."

Hannah handed Dean a fresh piece of parchment, and as he set grumblingly to work, Rachel went up to the boys' dormitory and knocked softly. Hearing no answer, she opened the door a bit and said, "Seamus?" into the dark room.

He didn't answer, but Rachel could see him lying across his bed, spread-eagled. Sighing, she stepped in and turned up the light a bit, closing the door behind her.

"How are you doing?" she asked gently, coming to sit by his side on the edge of the mattress. "Your mum wrote to us…told us what happened."

He didn't reply, only shifted slightly and continued to stare up at the velvet roof of his bed.

Rachel played with the ends of her hair. "I'm very sorry. The Captain seemed like such a decent man…and I could tell, he loved you very much."

Still no reply.

She bit her lip anxiously and put her hand rather timidly on Seamus' arm. "D'you want to…y'know, talk about it?"

At last, a response! It was only a headshake 'no,' but it encouraged Rachel to lean on her elbow and try to see his face. The movement, however, spurred Seamus to sit up abruptly and turn his head away from her. "I don't want to talk about it," he said gruffly, kicking his discarded tie towards his trunk.

"That's all right, that's normal," Rachel said with relief that he was speaking. "I'll just…sit here with you for awhile. If that's all right."

He made no attempt to tell her it wasn't, so Rachel stayed put, rubbing his arm as he stared stoically at the opposite wall. Silence reigned, and Rachel found herself wondering how long he could sit so straight and emotionless. Her question was answered soon: first, his gaze wavered. Then, his frown deepened. At last, he seemed to sag down, defeated, his head in his hands.

Rachel had never been around anyone so plainly grief-stricken. Her uncertainty caused her to hesitate almost to long before she put her arms around him and pulled him close, trying to hold him securely but tenderly. At first, she thought he was going to push her away. But then he dropped his hands from his face and wrapped them tightly around her, hiding his face in her shoulder, plainly desperate for comfort. Rachel patted his back soothingly and told him it was going to be all right for an entire five minutes, all the while trying to keep her head and feelings in their proper places. For his part, Seamus was absolutely silent and rock still for the whole time, giving Rachel cause to believe that he was crying, but didn't want her to know.

At last, he sat up, red beneath his freckles. "Better now?" Rachel asked gently.

He nodded, trying to look manly as he wiped his nose. "Yeah. Thanks."

Rachel continued to rub his arm. "Would you like Dean and me to…to come to Ireland with you this weekend? Your mum asked us to."

Seamus nodded again. "It'd be nice…"

"Good," she said brightly, "because we already told her we were coming."

Seamus had to smile at this, and Rachel hugged him again. "There, there. You ought to get some sleep. Dean and I have to pack. If you need anything, just come and get me. Okay?"

"Okay."

Rachel smiled, then reached up and planted a firm kiss on his forehead. "All right. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Rachel."

And she went back downstairs, shutting the door softly behind her. "How is he?" the Funny Farm asked as soon as they saw her.

Rachel sighed. "As well as can be expected. I made him smile a bit, at least, and he's glad Dean and I are going."

"I wish _I_ could go," Katelyn grumbled.

"Trust me," said Dean. "No, you don't"

"Shove it, Dean Thomas," Rachel declared, "and keep it there until we get back on Sunday."

"Yes, _ma'am_," Dean retorted.

And thus, everyone went up to bed.


	20. A Parting of Ways

**Chapter Twenty:**

**A Parting of Ways**

Graiguenmanagh, County Kildare, was suitably dreary on Friday morning. A little drizzle was falling as Rachel and Dean, freshly Apparated from Hogsmeade, helped out the stressed Finnigans in any way they could; the wake was to be held in their home that afternoon, and Mrs. Finnigan was so distracted with grief that she kept trying to charm spatulas to chop the carrots, instead of knives. At last, Rachel and Dean convinced her to take a well-needed nap with baby Kathleen, while the three teenagers, handicapped by lack of magic outside Hogwarts, cleaned the house and prepared food Muggle-style. Dean set up chairs after Seamus dusted and vacuumed and moved the furniture, and Rachel made a hearty American meal with Mr. Finnigan as her galley slave.

As Seamus and Dean finished before Rachel did, they came to help her and Mr. Finnigan in the kitchen. As Rachel struggled to remember recipes and convert American measurements to the metric scale _and_ increase the sizes of every batch to feed almost one hundred people, the menfolk quietly peeled carrots.

"Mam won't tell me how Grandda died, Da," Seamus said at last.

The muttering that accompanied Rachel's frantic mathematic figuring stopped abruptly, and she looked up from her paper.

"I can't tell you, son," replied Mr. Finnigan.

"But he's _my_ grandda! I deserve to know!"

Seamus looked rather dangerous with a knife in one hand and a carrot in the other, so Mr. Finnigan conceded. "Fine. But don't tell your mother."

"We promise," said Dean. (Rachel kicked his chair.)

Mr. Finnigan sighed. "He wasn't killed by one of us—by a Muggle, I mean. A wizard broke into his house, and when your grandda heard them, he got out of bed to confront them. But they got 'im first. I remember your mum saying something about a Killing Curse. 'Tis a good thing Uncle Malachy found him before the Muggle police, though—hid his wand and made it look like he'd died in his sleep."

A stunned silence followed the explanation. Seamus stared wanly at the carrots in front of him, and Mr. Finnigan immediately looked as though he regretted saying anything at all. "I think I hear Kathleen crying," he said, and hurried from the room even though the house was silent. Seamus got up and went out through the kitchen door into the drizzle, slamming it behind him.

"I'll go get him," Dean sighed.

Rachel shook her head. "Let him be, this time. He has to think about the implications of the Captain's murder on his own."

"What implications?" Dean asked stupidly.

This earned him a smack on the head with a spoon. _"You-Know-Who!_" Rachel hissed. "I think the Death Eaters got the Captain! He's pro-Muggleborns and anti-Dark magic. Why wouldn't they do away with him? The fewer people who clearly remember his first rise to power, the better for him."

"You seem to have thought this out a lot," Dean said, rubbing the sore spot on his head.

"I started thinking something was up when Mrs. Finnigan said it wasn't safe to say via owl," Rachel replied. "Mr. Finnigan's story just proved my theory."

"Freaky," said Dean.

"Yeah—and a little close to home."

Seamus returned to the house almost an hour later, we with rain but considerably less-mournful looking.

"Come, Seamus," Rachel said, drawing a chair near the oven, "sit here. You must be freezing."

"It's a bit cold, yeah," Seamus admitted.

Rachel gave him a dishtowel to dry his face and hair. "You ought to change. Your family will be here at seven, and it's already 5:30."

"I'd rather sit here. I'll dry in time. Plus, whatever you're making smells awesome."

Blushing with pleasure, Rachel grinned. "Your mom had an 'international' cookbook hidden around here somewhere—it had recipes for things I normally make and eat at home! So you're not getting anything fancy—just good old-fashioned American food."

"Try the cookies," Dean said.

Seamus looked so hopeful that Rachel couldn't help but let him have one of the crispy chocolate chip treats. "Well?" she asked.

He shoved the entire thing into his mouth and ate it in less than a half-minute. "It's great! I swear, Su, I'm going to marry you one of these days."

Rachel turned bright red and quickly busied herself with stirring something on the stove.

"So, what else are you making?" Seamus asked, looking over her shoulder.

She stepped back, not knowing he was there, and trod on his toes. "Oh—sorry! Well, I figured the foods that make me feel best are the ones we eat at Thanksgiving in the States. So there's mashed potatoes—from a box, don't look so amazed—sweet potatoes with pecans, sweet corn, bean casserole; for the main dish there'll be a roast with onions and carrots, that's probably what you smelled when you came in; and for dessert, there's funer—" She stopped abruptly. "I mean, pistachio pudding and cherry pie. Your da was good enough to go get the groceries in town."

"That sounds awesome," Seamus said. "But what were you saying before? About the pudding?"

"Her family calls it funeral fluff," Dean broke in.

Rachel looked mortified. "My grandma called it that because in the town I'm from, they had pistachio pudding at ever wedding and funeral. It's made from marshmallows, so it's kinda fluffy…" She trailed off. "It's very tactless. I'm sorry."

He actually smirked!

Rachel gasped in delight. "Dean! Did you see that?"

"I think I did!" Dean replied. "Was it—dare I say—an almost smile?"

"I think it was!" said Rachel. "Here—I'll see if I can't lure it out again." She snatched one of the cookies and waved it under Seamus' nose. "Here, smile…I have a cookie for you!"

Lo and behold, a bashful grin appeared on Seamus' face! Rachel laughed and gave him the cookie. "I'm glad we haven't lost you yet, leprechaun," she said fondly.

"If I smile again, do I get another cookie?"

"Not a chance."

--

After the funeral on Sunday (which Dean and Rachel were not allowed to attend, it being a very emotional and rather secretive family affair), Mrs. Finnigan Apparated them all back to Hogsmeade.

"Now, be good," she was telling them. "Don't make me come back here."

"Yes, Mam," Seamus said, rolling his eyes.

Mrs. Finnigan gave him an extra-long hug. "I can't thank you and Dean enough for all the help you gave this weekend," she said to Rachel.

"It was no problem, Mrs. Finnigan, really."

Mrs. Finnigan had to dig in her purse for a tissue to dab her eyes, then hugged them both. "I hope to see you both again soon. Goodbye, loves, and stay in touch!"

They waved and got their things to begin the walk back up to the castle; Mrs. Finnigan called "goodbye" one last time and then Disapparated. "I love your mum," Rachel told Seamus. "She's so sweet."

"Ditto," said Dean.

Seamus didn't reply, but looked rather pleased.

The look lasted until they reached the Entrance Hall of the castle. Professor Umbridge stood there in all her ugly pinkness, leering at them a bit like a cat does before it pounces. "Ah," she said. "Just the students I was looking for."

The three Funny Farmers glanced at each other and Levitated their things to rest on the ground.

Umbridge smiled. "Come to my office, won't you?"

"What about our things?" Dean asked.

"What about our things, _Professor_?" Umbridge corrected.

Dean sighed. "What about our things, _Professor_?"

Umbridge's already narrow eyes glinted with delight. "You won't need to be moving them. Come along."

Rachel nearly had to be physically dragged away from her precious book bag. Nevertheless, they soon found themselves being pushed into Umbridge's office. Katelyn, Hannah, and Tanya were already there, and when they turned to see who it was, Rachel and Seamus and Dean were startled to see their faces streaked with tears.

"I'll be right with you," tittered Umbridge, and shut the door smartly behind her.

"What's going on?" Seamus asked as Rachel rushed to comfort Tanya, whose chin was trembling dangerously.

"Umbridge heard us talking about the Funny Farm," Katelyn said dully. "We're to be expelled. All of us."

Tanya gave a choking sob and buried her face in Rachel's shoulder.

"She can't do that!" Dean said, going over to put his arms around Hannah. (Seamus felt obliged to pat Katelyn's shoulder.)

"She's got an order from the Minister," Katelyn said. "The Hogwarts Express is taking us to King's Cross tonight. House elves are already packing our things. 'So we don't have to go back to Gryffindor Tower'," she added with a bitter laugh.

Rachel detached herself from Tanya's grip and sat down. "What…what are we supposed to do?" she said blankly. "We can't go back to Muggle school—we'd be in sixth grade at fifteen. And Durmstrang or Beauxbatons are out of the question, because we can't learn French or Cyrillic that fast. Salem Academy sent us a letter saying we were rejected as possible students the same time we got our Hogwarts letters."

"Our only hope is Nunavut Institute for Magic," Tanya said bleakly. "And that's all the way in northern Canada! _I don't want to go to Canada!_"

"You're thinking of _school_?" Hannah cried suddenly. "What about the fact that we won't see Dean or Seamus again?"

A stunned silence followed this proclamation. Obviously, Rachel _hadn't_ thought of this, for she leapt from her seat and threw her arms around Seamus. "Swear you'll write all the time," she said fervently.

Normally, at this point Seamus would've loosened her grip, but he just clung to her wordlessly, nodding over and over again.

At the sound of the doorknob turning, however, everyone looked up. Umbridge came waddling in, smug as a toad. "I warned you, didn't I?" she said, and turned to shut the door.

But Professor McGonagall stopped it with one foot. "What is this nonsense about you expelling _six_ of my students, Dolores?" she said, stepping over the threshold.

"They broke Educational Decree #24, Minerva," Umbridge said lightly.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "Well, I beg to disagree. I've taken it to Professor Dumbledore—"

"That won't help—"

"—And he happens to agree with me."

"That I do," came a calm voice. The six Funny Farmers turned to see their headmaster, silver beard and all, standing beside McGonagall. (He stood still and serious, but Rachel could've sworn he gave them a wink.) "I doubt these youngsters could have broken so _important_ a rule, Dolores," he went on. "And Professor McGonagall tells me some of her best students are in this room. Tell me, the lot of you, have any of you broken Educational Decree #24?"

Only Rachel had the brains to say, "Absolutely not, Professors."

"There," said Dumbledore. "I should think that settles it. Now, up you get, students. I believe it is close to your bedtime. Chop, chop!"

They needn't have been told twice. All six of them leapt up and made a beeline for the door. Professor McGonagall saw them safely down the corridor, and then said, "I wish you'd be more careful. There's only so much I can do, after a point. Now, goodnight."

She turned at this and went away, leaving the six Funny Farmers in silence.

"So…_did_ we break Educational Decree #24?" Tanya whispered at last.

Rachel bit her lip. "I think, in the eyes of the Ministry, yes. Thank goodness McGonagall and Dumbledore stepped in. We owe them big time, guys!"

There was murmured agreement. "Well," said Katelyn brightly. "I guess we dodged a bullet. Now let's—"

"You can bet we won't dodge it again," Hannah interrupted. Her face was solemn.

Rachel shared her expression. "If we get caught next time, there's nothing McGonagall _or_ Dumbledore can do to stop us from being expelled. We've been warned now."

"What are you saying?" Tanya asked in a quivering voice.

Seamus looked between Hannah and Rachel. "Don't go there, you two—I'm warning you—"

Rachel closed her eyes as if the thought were physically paining her. "I'm advising we stop being so obvious about our friendship."

"Like how?" Tanya said, her hands muffling her voice.

"Well, we need to stop traveling as a pack, for one," said Hannah. "We ought to walk down the halls separately or with other people."

"And we should stop sitting by each other at every possible moment," Rachel said.

"But that means I'll have to be _Neville's_ Transfiguration partner!" Dean exclaimed. "How is that fair?" (Hannah smacked him upside the head.)

Rachel smirked. "I think you and Hannah should be okay, Dean, seeing as you're dating."

"So," said Seamus slowly, "If, say—hypothetically speaking, of course—you and _I_ were to date…"

"Then we'd be okay," Rachel said turning pink.

Katelyn laughed.

"Seriously, though," said Hannah. "We can't be seen as a group outside of Gryffindor Tower anymore. It's just not safe."

"Agreed," said Katelyn and Dean.

"Let's make a pact, then," Rachel said, holding her hand out. "To not being the Funny Farm in public."

The others were more reluctant about placing their hands atop Rachel's, but eventually they relented, and they stood in a circle about their conjoined hands. "Hear, hear," Tanya said miserably.

Everyone nodded, took a deep breath, and then broke the stack of hands with a swift downward stroke.

Rachel smiled grimly. "Long live the Funny Farm."


	21. TURD

**Chapter Twenty-One:**

**TURD**

The next night, Hannah, Rachel, Dean, Tanya, and Katelyn broke Educational Decree #24 again. Under the pretense of going to the library with Neville, Lavender, Parvati, and Ginny Weasley, they slipped out of Gryffindor Tower and went to the seventh floor by the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. To their amazement, where there had once been a blank wall now stood a door.

"The Room of Requirement!" Rachel breathed as Neville reached for the doorknob. "I've read about it, but I didn't know—ooh!"

She had just seen the room. Together, the nine Gryffindors walked in, gaping at the perfection of the room: books, Secrecy Sensors, cushions, clocks, you name it.

"Whoa," said Dean. "What is this place?"

Rachel looked crossly at him.

To ease the tension, Katelyn ran and grabbed one of the Secrecy Sensors. "I love these things," she said as Neville, Ginny, Parvati, and several others gathered around. "Watch how it works. Rachel, do you have a huge crush on Seamus Finnigan?"

"No!" Rachel retorted automatically.

The Secrecy Sensor in Katelyn's hand lit up and began to shriek.

"I hate you," Rachel muttered as everyone in the vicinity laughed their heads off.

Then, there was the sound of a key turning in a lock, and everyone turned to look at Harry. "Well," he said, "this is the place we've found for practices, and you've, um, obviously found it okay…"

"It's fantastic!" said one of the Ravenclaws.

Harry cleared his throat. "Yes, well…I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and—er—what, Hermione?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader," she said.

"Harry's leader!" one of the Ravenclaws chirped.

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly. It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So—everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?"

The Funny Farm raised their hands immediately, as did everyone else in the room.

"Er…right, thanks," said Harry with a blush. "So—_what_, Hermione?"

"I also think we ought to have a name. It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" Katelyn asked hopefully.

"Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group!" added Fred.

"Or the Totally Ulcerous Reform Division," Dean said.

"T.U.R.D.?" Rachel pointed out.

Hermione frowned. "I was thinking more of a name that _didn't _tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defense Association?" said one of the Ravenclaws. "Or…the D.A. for short!"

"Yeah, the D.A.'s good," said Ginny. "Only, let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army, because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"

Everyone laughed, most heartily the Funny Farm.

"All in favor?" said Hermione. Everyone raised their hands. "That's a majority—motion passed!" And she wrote _Dumbledore's Army_ on a piece of paper and pinned it to the wall.

"Right," said Harry. "Shall we get practicing, then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is _Expelliarmus._"

"Oh, good, I know this one," said Rachel, scrambling to her feet and looking for a partner.

"I'll bet you don't, Hekman," said Ernie Macmillan. Thus, they partnered off. (Rachel easily bested him, sending his wand spiraling out of his hand too often to count.)

Tanya and Katelyn were partners, as well; Tanya's spells were so feeble that Katelyn eventually took pity on her and started tossing her wand away to make it look like she was being beaten. Hannah and Dean, however, were taking no pity on each other, happily blasting _Expelliarmus_ spells back and forth.

At last, Harry blew his whistle.

"Well, that was pretty good," he said, "but we've overrun. We'd better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?"

"Same batchannel," said Katelyn.

"No, sooner!" Dean said eagerly.

"The Quidditch season's about to start," Angela interrupted. "We need team practices, too!"

Rachel groaned.

"Let's say next Wednesday, then," said Harry, "and we can decide on additional meetings then. Come on, we'd better get going."

He let the Gryffindors go first.

"That was amazing!" Katelyn gushed as they snuck back to Gryffindor Tower. "I can't wait for next week."

"Me, neither," Rachel said with a grin, clambering through the portrait hole.

Seamus was standing just inside, the sleeve of his watch arm rolled up. "Oh!" he said, turning red. "I was…just going out for a breath of fresh air…"

Hannah rolled her eyes. "It's after curfew, smart one. We know you were waiting for us."

"I was not," Seamus said defensively.

"If only I had the Secrecy Sensor with me," Katelyn sighed. "I gotta get me one of those."

Seamus looked confused.

"I wish we were allowed to tell you, Seamus," Tanya yawned. "Well, g'night!"

"See you guys bright and surly!"

So Dean, Hannah, Katelyn, and Tanya headed up to bed, leaving Seamus looking rather hurt. Rachel was about to follow the girls up to the dorm, but at the last moment turned around and ran back to where Seamus stood. Her frizzy ponytail swinging, she put her lips right up to his ear and whispered, "The Disarming Spell. _Expelliarmus._"

He turned to look at her and opened his mouth to ask her something, but she shook her head. "Goodnight! I'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah, 'night," Seamus said, rather bewildered. Girls were strange, yet _wonderful_ creatures!

_A/N: We here at Schmo and Sushi, Co., apologize profusely for the extended hiatus. We've all been busy with high school! But hopefully, now that Sushi is settled down at college, updates will be more regular. Although…now she and Schmurf, the co-writer of the Funny Farm Chronicles, are separated by over 200 miles, so we'll see how that works out. ;) Thanks for your patience!_


	22. Judgment Day

**Chapter Twenty-Two:**

**Judgment Day**

"_Expelliarmus!"_

"Yes, yes, Seamus, we realize you've mastered the Disarming Spell," Dean said as his wand flew from his back pocket for the umpteenth time. "But you're going to get us detentions!"

Seamus beamed even as he put his wand away. Several weeks had passed since his grandda's funeral now, and his way of dealing with his grief was plunging headfirst into his schoolwork. He had memorized and mastered every one of the spells and techniques the rest of the Funny Farm was learning in the D.A. and were passing on to him, and he was getting top parks in nearly every subject, which hadn't happened since second year. ("And you guys think _me_ the smart one!" Rachel had crowed as she heard about Seamus's third consecutive 'O' in Charms. "But I'm telling you, Seamus is just as good!")

Hannah, who was walking ahead with Rachel and Katelyn (Tanya was off with Lavender and Parvati because, of course, the Funny Farm could not be seen together in public) and said over the bustle of the between-class crowds, "Careful, Seamus, we don't want you to get us in any more trouble than we're already in."

As they passed Umbridge's classroom, they smiled blandly at her, feeling the triumphant burn of knowing they were still the Funny Farm, and 83 percent of it carried in their pockets a cleverly-disguised fake Galleon that would tell them the time of their next D.A. meeting—and all right under her snub nose. This was the closest any of them had ever gotten to being real troublemakers, and the adrenaline of such rule-breaking got them through nearly a month of Quidditch practices, homework, and Umbridge.

Speaking of Quidditch, this particular day was the first Friday of November, the day before the most highly-anticipated House match of the season: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The two Houses had been duking it out for some time already: half the Gryffindor Quidditch team had been jinxed in one form or another, and every scarlet-and-gold-wearing student had endured jeers and ridicule from their Slytherin schoolmates.

"Nervous?" Seamus asked, jogging to catch up with Rachel. (Hannah immediately fell back to join Dean.)

"A bit," Rachel said. "Okay, a _lot._ Angelina is putting Fred out to start, but I have to finish—and that's when the game will be at its dirtiest."

"I'll have my wand," Seamus assured her, "and if anyone tries to knock you off your broom, I'll hex them from here to kingdom come!"

Rachel laughed. "Then I'll see you in detention, dear."

Seamus was about to reply, but halfway through his first sentence, Rachel fell to the ground with a loud and painful-sounding thud; her books went flying, and a bottle of ink fell out of her bag and smashed on the stones.

"Careful, there," Seamus said, kneeling to help her up.

Rachel didn't move to accept his proffered hand, but instead remained in her rather awkward position, white as a sheet and passing students sniggered at her misstep. "Seamus—"

"What?"

"Seamus, something's wrong—"

He dropped his bag and went a bit pale himself. "Your leg—did you break it?"

"I don't know," Rachel said, breathless.

"Seamus, you stupid lump," said Katelyn as she came to the rescue. She twitched Rachel's robes aside—and everyone in the near vicinity gasped.

"What is it?" Rachel said shakily.

"Your knees are on backwards!" Hannah shrieked. The poor girl heaved a few deep breaths and then needed to be escorted away.

"Don't just stand there!" Seamus bellowed. "Help me get her to the Hospital Wing!"

"Seamus—"

He ignored Katelyn and attempted to pick Rachel up. But as her knees had been magically switched, her legs would not bend the right way, and she stifled a cry of pain. "You're a _wizard_, Finnigan," she hissed, "so use your wand and stop making a scene!"

Just then, Marcus Flint, the burly Slytherin beater, came over laughing and slipping his wand back into his pocket. "Now you're even clumsier than usual," he said. "If that's even possible."

Seamus, who had just gotten his wand out, looked coolly at Flint and said, "_Chiroptera oppugno_." The spell itself sounded ordinary, but with a shriek, a stream of hairy, flapping bats came rushing out of the tip of his wand and surrounded Flint's head. All that could be heard was Flint's terrified screaming, and he ran away down the hall with a flock of angry bats close on his heel.

Now somewhat calmer, Seamus turned back to Rachel and said, "Levicorpus," standing back as she rose into the air. Tanya quickly grabbed Rachel's things and they all walked with her up to the Hospital Wing, shielding her from boldly curious gazes.

When Madam Pomfrey saw the casualty, she sighed heavily and fixed her apron. "Put her there," she demanded, pointing to a cot. "Carefully, now."

Seamus moved his wand and removed the spell, dropping Rachel gently onto the hospital bed. "You'll be okay," he told her with a white face. "I promise."

"She'll be fine," Pomfrey said airily. "As soon as we get some bone restructurant into her—really, though. I can't wait for this match to be over and done with. Pranking has gone too far! Don't look at me like that—I know this was Quidditch-related. I _don't_ know what you students would do without me."

As she ranted, she produced a beaker of green potion. "Here," she said, "drink this and you'll be right as rain."

Rachel wrinkled her nose at the foul-smelling liquid. "Really?"

"Beggars can't be choosers, dear."

So, with a deep breath and a squeeze of Seamus's hand, Rachel tilted her head back and downed the potion. For a moment afterwards, her mouth and nose smoked eerily. Then, with a cry of pain that made Seamus shout, she lurched forward, grabbed her legs, and saw that her knees were right-side-up again.

"There," said Madam Pomfrey. "Better."

Rachel grinned.

"I'll discharge you," Pomfrey continued, "but your knees will be weak for the next few hours."

"That's all right," Seamus said. "I'll take care of her."

"Very good. Up you get, then…"

Rachel swung her legs over the side of the bed, and Seamus put an arm around her waist. "I'll try not to drop you," he told her.

"How sweet of you."

When they came out into the corridor, Tanya, Katelyn, Dean and Hannah straightened. "How's the patient?" Tanya asked.

"Never better," Rachel said brightly.

"Pomfrey said her knees will be weak for a bit," Seamus said. "So I'll be helping her today."

"You make me sound like an invalid," Rachel sighed.

"Well, you _are_."

"Be nice, you two," Katelyn immediately interjected, wagging a finger. "Seamus, escort her ladyship to Potions class, and the rest of us will follow behind. Mmkay?"

Rachel put on a huge fake grin. "Oh, joy! The Hospital Wing and then Potions. Could this day get any better?"

"It will if you stop grumbling!" Tanya said.

"If it makes you feel any better, we'll wait on you hand and foot until you can walk on your own," Hannah reassured Rachel.

"I told you I don't need any help," Rachel reasserted.

"Okay, then," Seamus said, and let go of her. Almost immediately, Rachel grabbed at his arm as she started to stumble, and he had to set her back on her feet.

"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have a little help," she admitted sheepishly.

Seamus smiled at the fact that she was needed and wrapped a sturdy arm around her waist again. Rachel blushed and continued to do so as he escorted her all the way to the Potions classroom.

Just before the rest of the Funny Farm entered the classroom, Katelyn gathered them in a group and said, "Seamus is the perfect crutch for Rachel—she fits in his arm like a glove!"

Everyone laughed, but not too loudly for fear of the Other Two hearing them.

"But they're so cute," Tanya sighed dreamily.

"They're the perfect couple, yeah," commented Dean, "aside from me and Hannah, of course."

Hannah beamed. "Oh, Dean!" she sighed, grabbing his arm.

Katelyn, meanwhile, made a face and said, "Ugh! Gag me!"

Tanya suddenly gasped. 'Um…guys? I just realized we're standing out in the hall as a group of three or more students, _and_ we'll all be late for Potions if we don't hurry!"

In fear of Umbridge and Snape, the Funny Farm rushed to their seats and just in time, for only a few seconds later did Snape glide soundlessly into the room and begin teaching.

Of course, throughout the lesson, he made grossly prejudiced comments about the upcoming Quidditch match, but Rachel, Harry, Ron and the other Gryffindors reserved their anger for tomorrow's match.

It was finally Saturday, the day of the long-awaited Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch match—the sporting event of the year. Rachel's legs were fully back to normal, and her infamous wrath was aroused. Ron, on the other hand, looked deathly pale and his hands shook uncontrollably as he twisted and untwisted his dragon-skin gloves. The Funny Farm and Harry all tried to boost his spirits, but nothing worked.

"You just need some breakfast," Harry said bracingly. "C'mon."

"Yeah, you'll need your strength to show those Slytherins who's boss!" Katelyn assured him.

So they proceeded to the Great Hall for breakfast, in separate groups of two, of course, lest they be caught breaking one of Umbridge's rules again.

They received a rousing welcome at the Gryffindor table, where everyone was wearing red and gold, but far from raising Ron's spirits the cheers seemed to sap the last of his morale; he collapsed onto the nearest bench, looking as though he were facing his final meal.

"I must've been mental to do this," he said in a croaky voice. "_Mental_."

"Don't' be thick," said Harry firmly, passing him a choice of cereals. "You're going to be fine. It's normal to be nervous."

"Sure it is," Rachel agreed. "I still get nervous before a game, and I've been playing a lot longer than you."

"Yeah, but you're a Beater. All you have to do is knock a ball around and try to beat people up!" Ron put his face in his hands. "I, on the other hand, am the cause of our winning or losing. The entire game depends on me."

"No, it doesn't," Hannah soothed him as Rachel looked affronted that he thought her sole purpose was to beat people up. "Quidditch is a team sport and doesn't rely on one person to make or break it."

"Actually," Harry interrupted, "the game does heavily rely on the Seeker. So, if anything, Ron, _I_ should be the one who's nervous. I have to find the Snitch before the other Seeker and gain the winning points."

"But even then, there's no guarantee you'll win," Tanya observed helpfully. "Just like Bulgaria in the World Cup last year."

Katelyn did a face-palm.

There was a short silence as the Gryffindors ate their breakfast. Everyone, that is, except Ron, who stared despondently into his cereal. "I'm rubbish," he croaked. "I'm lousy. I can't play to save my life. What was I thinking?"

"Get a grip," said Harry sternly. "Look at the save you made with your foot the other day; even Fred and George said it was brilliant—"

Ron turned a tortured face to Harry. "That was an accident," he whispered miserably. "I didn't do it—I slipped off my broom when none of you were looking and I was trying to get back on and I kicked the Quaffle by accident."

"_What?"_ Rachel cried.

"Well," Harry said, trying to recover from this rather nasty shock, "a few more accidents like that and the game's in the bag, isn't it?"

"You _what_?" Rachel repeated loudly, still horrified. Harry assured her things were fine and that they would still win against Slytherin.

At that moment, Hermione and Ginny sat down opposite them wearing red and gold scarves, gloves, and rosettes. "How're you feeling?" Ginny asked Ron, who was now staring into the dregs of the milk at the bottom of his empty cereal bowl.

"He's just nervous," said Dean.

"Well, that's a good sign. I never feel you perform as well in exams if you're not a little bit nervous," Hermione said heartily.

"You _would_," Hannah sighed.

"Hello," said a vague and dreamy voice from behind them. Luna Lovegood had drifted over from the Ravenclaw table and, perched precariously on her head, was a hate shaped like a life-sized lion's head. Many people were staring at her, including the Funny Farm, but Katelyn, Dean, and Seamus unabashedly sniggered.

"Hey, Luna," Rachel said politely after slapping Seamus upside the head.

"I'm supporting Gryffindor," said Luna.

"We can see that," muttered Dean.

"Look what it does," Luna added, tapping it with her wand. It opened its mouth wide and gave an extremely realistic roar that made everyone jump. "It's good, isn't it?" Luna said happily. "I wanted to have it chewing up a serpent to represent Slytherin, you know, but there wasn't time. Anyway…good luck, Ronald!"

She drifted away. The group had not quite recovered from the shock of Luna's hat before Angelina came hurrying toward them, accompanied by Katie and Alicia.

"When you're ready," she said, "we're going to go straight down to the pitch, check out conditions and change."

Rachel stood up. "I don't know about you," she told Harry, "but I'm going to go now."

"We'll be there in a bit," Harry replied. "Ron's just got to have some more breakfast."

"Okay," replied Rachel. She waved to the Funny Farm. "See you all later!"

"Bye!" Tanya called back.

Ten minutes later, it was clear that Ron wasn't going to eat any more, so Harry decided to take him to the changing rooms. As they rose from the table, Hannah got up too and drew Harry to one side.

"Don't let Ron see what's on those Slytherins' badges," she whispered urgently.

Harry looked questioningly at her, but she shook her head warningly. Ron, meanwhile, had been standing alone, shoulders hunched and desperate look on his face.

"You'll do awesome, Ron," Dean encouraged him.

"Break a leg!" added Seamus. Since Rachel wasn't there to punish him, Katelyn did the honors.

"Go, Ron!" Ginny yelled.

"You got this!" Tanya interjected.

"Good luck, Ron," said Hermione, standing on tiptoe and kissing him on the cheek. "And you, Harry—"

Ron seemed beside himself, and the Funny Farm girls exchanged knowing glances. He touched the spot on his face where Hermione had kissed him as Harry led him out of the Great Hall. As they passed the Slytherin table, Harry cast a curious glance at the crown-shaped badges they all wore. This time he made out the words etched on them:

_**Weasley**_

_**Is Our King**_

"This isn't gonna be good," he muttered under his breath.

Meanwhile, Dean asked Hannah, "What's on those badges?"

"An awful slogan that the Slytherins have made up about Ron," she answered sadly.

"I saw that!" Tanya exclaimed. "How awful! …What does it mean?"

"They call him their king because he's a bad Keeper and will let them score easily," Katelyn explained.

"He's _not_ a bad keeper, Katelyn!" Hermione snapped at her. "He just needs a little more practice."

"You mean, a _lot_ more," Seamus said with a shrug.

"Well…yes," Hermione admitted. "But don't tell him that, or he'll freak out, the poor thing."

"He's already done," Ginny said bluntly.

"Well, then," said Hannah cheerfully, "shall we proceed to the Quidditch pitch?"

"Lead the way, my lady," Katelyn said with a bow, and so they all went out.

_A/N: Why, hello, there! Long time no see! Haha…yeah. Anyway, Sushi here saying thanks for your patience and that I hope I'll be able to update more often! College is a lot more time-consuming than I thought! :)_


	23. Banned For Life

**Chapter Twenty-Three:**

**Banned For Life  
**

The Quidditch match of the year kicked off with a piercing whistle and a loud roar from the crowd. Rachel, stuck in the locker room under the stands, could only hear bits and pieces of Lee Johnson's commentary over the sound of the spectators. Anxiously, she paced back and forth, gripping her broom with white knuckles, and hummed loudly to keep her mind occupied.

Then, quickly, joyously, the team manager ran in and told her to get out to the pitch, she was up! Fred met her as she ran out of the locker room with her broom ready to go, and he called after her, "Careful—it's dirty out there!"

"I'll be fine," she replied. "I'll show them what it means to be a Beater!"

With that, she leapt onto her broom and soared into the air as Lee Jordan said, "And Gryffindor Beater Rachel Hekman takes the pitch. Look out, Slytherin!"

Fred was right—it _was_ a dirty game. The Slytherin Beaters, normally a brutish lot anyway, were rather more aggressive with their swings, and the Chasers seemed to be losing control of their elbows and legs more often than usual. As Flint kicked Angelina's broom sideways, Rachel felt her blood boil, and she hauled away at a Bludger with such wrath that it forced two Slytherin Chasers to split formation and spiral away.

"She is going to _kill_ someone," Seamus commented admiringly. "I'm glad I'm not a Slytherin right now."

"That's our Sushi!" Katelyn cried. "You go, girl!"

"And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle," Lee Jordan was saying, "what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me—"

"Jordan!" came Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Just a fun fact, Professor!"

Rachel tuned Jordan out—laughing would cause her righteous anger to dissipate, and that was the last thing she wanted. Instead, she focused on Flint's ugly mug…how easy would it be to get the Bludger right in the center of his nose?

Suddenly, she realized that the crowds were singing something. Such a concept was quite out of context, and it took her a minute to realize what, exactly, was being said:

"_Weasley cannot save a thing,_

"_He cannot block a single ring,_

"_That's why Slytherins all sing:_

"_Weasley is our King._

"_Weasley was born in a bin_

"_He always lets the Quaffle in_

"_That's why Slytherins all sing:_

"_Weasley is our King._

"_Weasley is our King,_

"_Weasley is our King,_

"_Weasley will make sure we win_

"_Weasley is our King."_

"Oh, no!" Hannah cried. Tanya and Katelyn looked disgusted.

Seamus stood up. "What the hell was that?" he bellowed, nice and loud.

Rachel happened to be near the Gryffindor stands when he did so, and it shook her out of her confusion. _No_ one picked on her friends—especially Slytherins!

Screwing up her face, she took a swing at an incoming Bludger and sent it screaming towards Warrington. The projectile caught him square in the shoulder and sent the Slytherin Chaser spinning out of control and the Quaffle sailing from his grip, and the crowds went wild.

"Now _that_ is why I play Quidditch," Rachel said to herself with a brief grin, and then proceeded to doing all she could to rough up the Slytherins without getting hurt herself. Such a mission was easier said than done—Rachel, being Dutch, was hardly the smallest person ever, but the Slytherin team was largely…well, large. The Chasers loved to throw their weight around, and the Beaters were of the same ilk. As a result, Rachel was bumped around, knocked into, kicked away, punched, and scratched, but she returned the favors with equal intensity.

The game wore on. Gryffindor fell behind thirty points, and the Slytherins' taunting song echoed throughout the stands.

"C'mon, Harry, find the Snitch," Rachel muttered as she whacked another Bludger towards Malfoy. She had been intending to strike him in the elbow, but just as it was about to collide with him, he sped off with Harry right at his heels—they had seen the Snitch!

The Funny Farm watched anxiously as Draco and Harry raced neck-and-neck around the pitch. Feet from the ground, Harry lifted his right hand from his broom, stretching towards the bit of glinting gold…to his right, Malfoy's arm extended too, reaching, groping…

It was all over in two breathless, desperate, windswept seconds. Harry's fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball, and as he pulled his Firebolt upwards, the Gryffindors screamed their approval.

"Yeah!" Seamus yelled. "Go Gryffindor! Go Harry!"

The Funny Farm turned to look at him in amazement.

"I thought you hated Harry," Dean teased.

Seamus's eyes shifted uneasily. "I do," he said with an awkward smile. "I'm only cheering for him because he's the key to our victory."

Katelyn smirked and said, "Uh-huh, _sure_."

Meanwhile, on the pitch, Rachel landed just in time to witness Harry being hit in the back by a rogue Bludger. "Hey!" she bellowed, whirling around to see who committed the act. It was Crabbe, one of Draco's ugly goons. She started towards him, a pile of angry words forming on her tongue, but Angelina stopped her.

"Madam Hooch is telling him off. Don't bother. Harry, are you all right?"

"'Course I am," Harry said grimly, allowing Rachel to help him to his feet.

"It was that thug, Crabbe," Rachel growled.

"But we won, Harry," Angelina cried, "we won!"

"That's right, we won!" Rachel repeated. "Boy, if Slytherin had won, I promise you I would have slugged a few of them personally."

"Well, now we don't have to look back on this with any regret," said Angelina.

Soon, the whole Gryffindor team was on the ground, huddled around Harry, whooping and slapping him on the back. Ron, Rachel noticed, was slowly making his way back to the changing rooms alone. It was deplorable, the way the Slytherins had ridiculed him, and Rachel knew that no matter what he did, the Slytherins would be there to bring him down. Even now, Rachel could hear Draco over the shouting:

"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" he said to Harry. "I've never seen a worse Keeper, but then he _was_ born in a bin…did you like my lyrics?"

Rachel, Harry, and the other players ignored him while the Funny Farm and the other Weasleys joined the celebrations, hugging Rachel and punching the air in triumph.

"Way to go, guys!" cried Hannah.

"Awesome moves!" added Dean.

"Hey, Su, that was _wicked_ cool the way you got that big ugly Chaser—the one that looks like a troll—right in the shoulder and he went _spinning_…" said Seamus animatedly, "it was awesome!"

Rachel looked ready to kiss him, but Katelyn pointed out nonchalantly, "Yeah, but then you missed Malfoy."

"Hey, I was close!" Rachel retorted.

"Close wasn't good enough," Tanya remarked, pointing toward Draco.

"We wanted to write another couple of verses," Malfoy was yelling. "But we couldn't find rhymes for 'fat' and 'ugly'—we wanted to sing about his mother, see—"

"Talk about sour grapes," said Angelina with a disgusted look.

"We couldn't fit in useless, either—for his father, you know—"

George, Fred, and Rachel had just realized what Draco was saying. Halfway though shaking Harry's hand, they stiffened, looking around at him.

"Leave it," said Katelyn at once, taking George by the arm. "And you'll notice how I used the word 'it,' not 'him'—"

"But you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter," said Malfoy, widening his sneer. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay—"

Harry and Dean grabbed George, Alicia and Angelina held Fred, and Seamus and Tanya held onto Rachel.

Malfoy laughed. "Or perhaps," he said with a leer, "you can remember what _your_ mother's house stank like, Potter, and the Weasleys' pigsty reminds you of it. Then at Hogwarts, you hang around the stench of Mudbloods, just like your mother."

Hannah and Tanya watched in amazement as Harry and George and Fred sprinted toward Malfoy like madmen. Seamus paused for a moment, then took his arms from around Rachel's shoulders and let her into the fray.

"Seamus, what are you doing?" screamed Tanya.

"You know how Rachel's like when she's angry," Seamus said with a shrug and a poorly-hidden grin. "This will be a great time to get revenge on Malfoy."

The Funny Farm nodded their agreement and turned to watch Rachel, Harry, Fred, and George beat Malfoy into a bloody pulp.

Rachel leaped into the sea of arms and legs, getting punched and kicked herself in the process. But she was determined to bring as much pain to Malfoy as possible. She liked to tell herself it was because he had insulted someone's mother, but the truth was, the word Mudblood stung deeply, and _no one_ insulted her _or_ her friends!

"_Impedimenta_!"

She felt herself being flung away from the melee, and she landed hard on the sand.

"What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch as the Gryffindors leapt to their feet, ready to take on their next challenger. There she was, the mistress of the game, whistle in one hand and wand in the other.

Rachel looked around at her teammates. George was sporting a swollen lip and Harry looked like he was in a daze, and her own cheek stung and pinched as the skin started to swell under her eye. But when she noticed Malfoy, curled up on the ground and moaning with a bloody nose, all her pain went away and she smirked.

"I've never seen behavior like this—back up to the castle, all of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! _Go!_"

They turned on their heels and marched toward the castle in a single-file line as if they were headed to their execution. Then again, McGonagall probably _would _kill them.

Rachel looked back to see her friends reproachfully shaking their heads (except for Seamus, who smiled and gave her a thumbs-up). Grinning despite the growing pain in her face, Rachel followed Harry and George to McGonagall's office.

They had barely reached the door when McGonagall herself came marching along the corridor behind them, looking livid.

"In!" she ordered furiously, pointing to the door. They obeyed without hesitation. She strode around behind her dark desk and faced them, quivering with rage as she threw the Gryffindor scarf aside onto the floor.

"Well?" she said after a brief and painful pause. "I have never seen such a disgraceful exhibition. Four on one! I'm especially surprised at _you_, Miss Hekman—I thought you knew better! Explain yourselves!"

"Malfoy provoked us," said Harry stiffly. Rachel and George nodded fervently.

"Provoked you?" shouted McGonagall, slamming a fist onto her desk so hard that her cookie tin slid off and broke open. "He'd just lost, hadn't he? Of course he wanted to provoke you! But what on earth can he have said that justified what you four—"

"He insulted my parents," George snarled, "and Harry's mother."

McGonagall pursed her lips and looked at Rachel. Usually Rachel wasn't afraid of anything, but this time was different. "What is _your_ excuse, Miss Hekman?"

"He called us Mudbloods," Rachel said calmly. "I'm fine with being called that, but he insulted my friends—my _family_. I won't stand for it."

"That's all well and good, Miss Hekman, but instead of leaving it to Madam Hooch to sort out, you all decided to give an exhibition of Muggle dueling, did you? Have you any idea what you've—"

"_Hem, hem_."

They knew that sound all too well. Dolores Umbridge was standing in the doorway, wrapped in a green tweed cloak that greatly enhanced her resemblance of a toad, and smiling in a horribly sickly, ominous way that they had all come to dread.

"May I help, Professor McGonagall?" she asked in her most poisonously sweet voice.

"Help?" McGonagall repeated, growing a bit pink. "What do you mean, 'help'?"

Umbridge moved forward into the office, still smiling. "Why, I thought you might be grateful for a little extra authority."

The students would not have been surprised to see sparks fly from McGonagall's nose.

"You thought wrong. Now, you four had better listen closely. I don't care what provocation Malfoy offered you, I don't care if he insulted every family member you possess, you behavior was disgusting and I am giving each of you a week's worth of detention! Do not look at me like that Miss Hekman, you deserve it. And if any of you ever—"

"_Hem, hem_."

McGonagall closed her eyes as though praying for patience. "Yes?"

"I think they deserve rather more than detentions," said Umbridge smilingly.

Rachel herself was about to protest, but McGonagall beat her to the punch. "But unfortunately, it is what I think that counts, as they are in my House, Dolores."

Rachel nearly sighed with relief—she'd take McGonagall's punishments over Umbridge's any day.

"Well, actually, Minerva," simpered Umbridge, "I think you'll find that what I think does count. Now, where is it, Cornelius just sent it…I mean," she gave a little false laugh as she rummaged in her handbag, "the _Minister_ just sent it…ah, yes!"

She had pulled out a piece of parchment that she now unfurled.

"Hem, hem…_Educational Decree #25_…"

"Not another one!" McGonagall said so loudly that Rachel and Harry and George and Fred jumped.

"'The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions, and removals of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. _Signed by Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic_.'"

She rolled up the parchment and put it back into her handbag, smiling. "So, I really think I will have to ban the raucous students from playing Quidditch ever again," she said, looking over at the gaping Gryffindors.

"_Ban us_?" bellowed the Weasley twins simultaneously.

"From ever playing Quidditch…" Rachel cried.

"Again?" Harry finished.

"Yes, I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick," said Umbridge, her smile widening. "I will want to confiscate their broomsticks, of course; I shall keep them safely in my office, to make sure there's no infringement on my ban. But I am not unreasonable, Professor," she continued. "The rest of the team can continue playing, I saw no sign of violence from any of _them_. Well, good afternoon to you all."

And with a look of the utmost satisfaction, Umbridge left the room, leaving a horrified silence in her wake.

* * *

"Banned," said Angelina in a hollow voice late that evening in the common room. _"Banned_. No Seeker and no Beaters—not even Fred! And he wasn't supposed to play till the next game! What are we going to do?"

"Maybe we could slip some poison into Umbridge's pumpkin juice," seethed Katelyn.

"No," said Rachel, nursing her black eye. "That's too merciful."

"How dare she!" cried Hannah. "She's not even our Head of House!"

"No, but our thick-headed Minister of Magic basically made her second next to Dumbledore," Dean grumbled.

"We really need to add more DA sessions," Hermione added in a low voice, "if we ever want to be able to stand up to her."

"Well, I guess I'll have time for them now," said Harry dismally.

Meanwhile, Seamus had gone up to Rachel and whispered in her ear, "Since you're done with Quidditch, will you have time to help me with my History of Magic homework?"

She pushed him playfully. "Don't mess with me, buster."

"You know I'm kidding. I just…well, I just hate seeing you mope around like this."

"Well, then, thanks for trying to lift my spirits."

"Am I not succeeding?"

She looked up, and he was making a face at her. "Oh, you!"

"What are friends for?" he said teasingly.

Despite her sore eye, Rachel pushed him a few more times and then wrapped her arms around his neck. For a brief moment, neither of them was going to let go, but they were surrounded by friends and classmates, so they quickly separated and looked in opposite directions.

"It's just so unfair," Alicia said numbly, bringing Seamus and Rachel back to attention. "I mean, what about Crabbe and that Bludger he hit after the whistle? Has she banned _him_?"

"No," replied Ginny, "he just got lines."

"Typical!" Dean sighed in frustration.

For a while, everyone just watched the Snitch fly around the room in a hypnotic motion until Angelina finally got up and announced that she was going to bed.

The Funny Farm agreed to do the same and somberly climbed the stairs to their dorms.

"It doesn't matter that we won, does it," muttered Tanya.

Hannah put her arm around her. "Nope."

"Hey, Rachel, are you doing okay?" asked Katelyn as the girls got ready for bed.

"Yeah," Rachel answered, but she closed her drawer rather loudly. Deep down inside she wanted to scream and yell, particularly at Umbridge, but she also wanted to put up a brave, cool front for her friends.

The Funny Farm girls tried to get her mind off of her banishment by instigating a lively round of 'Honey If You Love Me,' which eventually worked, and so they exhausted themselves so much that they all fell quickly asleep. Even Rachel drifted off with her mind full of happy thoughts.


	24. Rachel and Seamus Are Like Dynamite

**Chapter Twenty-Four:**

**Seamus and Rachel Are Like Dynamite - BOOM!**

November and December went by in a ploddingly cold and damp manner. It had never occurred to Rachel just how boring the Quidditch season was when she wasn't playing. For the first several weeks of her lifetime ban, she refused to watch the less-important matches, even though the rest of the Funny Farm wanted to. After a little while, though, they realized that Gryffindor Tower was next to deserted during Quidditch matches, and so Rachel took the opportunity to teach Seamus the DA material that he was missing out on because he's a prat.

Unfortunately, he was also a prat that was very good at coming up with new variations of all the spells that Rachel taught him. (For instance, he had just recently mastered the Shield Charm when Rachel was trying to teach him the Impediment Jinx—which really mean that she kept jinxing him before he could get the spell out—so he quickly raised his wand the seventh time around and cried out, "_Protego Rursus_!" The spell rebounded off his shield and struck Rachel, who was forced to chase him around the Common Room in slow motion until he finally had mercy on her and removed the jinx.)

Rachel even deigned to help Seamus with his History of Magic homework, which she made a great show of professing the inconvenience of, but everyone knew she enjoyed it because she liked History of Magic and liked Seamus's improved test scores even more.

In fact, she liked it so much that she spent one afternoon locked away in the library and came back declaring that she, which the encouragement of Professor McGonagall, had applied for entrance into the Educator's Academy, the most prestigious professor training school in the UK.

"_What_?" Katelyn asked after a brief pause.

Rachel nodded and flopped down in front of the fire, warming her study-chilled fingers. "McGonagall told me all about it—students are accepted in the winter of their fifth year, and (provided they graduate with all the special requirements) study at the Academy for another three years and then get jobs all over the world."

Seamus raised his eyebrows. "You actually _want_ to keep teaching? One'd think I'd have scared you off of that."

"I guess I'm just resilient, then," Rachel teased back. "Besides—you owe me some Astronomy tutoring, if I'm not mistaken."

He opened his mouth, but Hannah cut across him. "What's your Plan B? I mean…you submitted your application, but…"

"Oh, sort of," Rachel answered. "I need four professor recommendations—McGonagall, Flitwick, Binns, and Burbage, of course—and my exams are the second day of the Christmas holiday."

"Exams?" Dean groaned. "You _are_ batty."

Rachel shrugged.

"Plan B?" Hannah prompted.

Rachel shrugged again. "I guess I don't have one. I mean, my grades are high, McGonagall says I have a lot of potential—"

"You _are_ pretty good," Seamus said.

"—And I'm not worried about my exams. I have a good three weeks to prepare."

"Is Astronomy on it?" Seamus asked.

"No, I don't think so…"

"You can never be too sure," he said decisively. "Meet me on the Astronomy Tower in ten minutes."

Rachel didn't argue, but went right upstairs to get her things.

"'Astronomy tutoring'?" Katelyn said dryly. "_That_ was subtle."

Seamus turned bright red and stammered, "I—I—no—"

Hannah, Tanya, Katelyn, and Dean all burst into laughter, and Seamus angrily grabbed his things and went upstairs.

* * *

They didn't see much of Rachel over the course of the next few weeks, and then Seamus took to studying with her in the library rather like a lost puppy, and so he was rarely around, either.

The other Funny Farmers, when they weren't shoveling away at the avalanche of homework, wandered around the castle in groups of two, practicing DA spells until Hannah could disarm Katelyn so effectively that it often took the Summoning Spell to retrieve her wand; Dean was the best Shielder of the bunch; and even Tanya could Reduce a suit of armor to magnetic dust. Harry was well pleased with their progress!

One day, however, the idyllic harmony that graced the waking hours of the Funny Farm was shattered when, on a particularly sunny day in early December, Seamus burst into the Common Room with a horrendously dark look on his face.

"Whoa, where's the fire?" Katelyn said, blinking as he threw his book bag onto the floor and collapsed into an armchair, glowering at the fire.

"Are you okay?" Hannah asked. "Did something happen?"

"'Did something happen?'" he scoffed. "Of _course_ something happened!" And he trailed off in mutterings that were too heavily accented to make sense to the others' non-Irish ears.

"Really," Dean murmured, much too engrossed in his homework to pay much attention.

Tanya elbowed him. "What happened, Seamus?"

Seamus clenched his hands a few times before answering. "It's Rachel and that—_Macmillan_."

"Ernie?" Hannah said dubiously. "What's he got to do with Rachel?"

It seemed as though Seamus had been waiting for that question. "I went to the library to study with Rachel, and I saw them _with their heads together_, whispering and—and laughing. I went over to sit down, but when I asked Rachel about our History of Magic homework, she—"

He broke off angrily, and the rest of the Funny Farm leaned forward in anticipation.

"She—she said, _and I quote_: 'Not now, Seamus, I'm busy.'"

The Funny Farm looked rather unimpressed.

"And?" pressed Tanya, eager to hear of bloodshed.

"And then I left,' Seamus said darkly. "She clearly doesn't want me around."

"You're silly," Katelyn said.

He glared at her, then grabbed his things and stomped upstairs.

Later that day, when Rachel returned for dinner, she found nothing out of the ordinary. "Hungry?" Hannah asked, closing her book.

"Famished," Rachel replied. "My brain is all wrung out."

"I hear we're having shepherd's pie tonight," Tanya commented as they all stood up and stretched.

"Mmmm," said Dean, rubbing his stomach.

Rachel sidled up to Seamus, who was packing away his books. "Hey," she said. "If you bring your History of Magic stuff, I'll help you over dinner."

Seamus stiffened, then turned to the others. "Actually, I think I'm going to sit with Longbottom and Coote tonight." And without so much as a goodbye, he turned and left. Rachel looked more than a little hurt.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

The other Funny Farmers shrugged. "He's been cranky all day," Hannah said. It's probably because he's stressed about the holidays—it'll be the first time he's been home since the Captain died."

"I suppose that makes sense," Rachel said, but she didn't look too convinced.

Dinner went well, thought it was a little quiet without Seamus, and the Funny Farm soon migrated back to Gryffindor Tower. Seamus was already there, but as soon as Rachel drew near, he gathered his books up and went upstairs.

"Wow," said Dean.

Rachel looked crushed. "Did I do something?" she asked sincerely.

"I seem to remember Seamus crabbing about something earlier," Hannah mused. "But I can't remember what it was. Do you guys?"

"No," Tanya shrugged.

Dean and Katelyn looked like they couldn't care less.

Rachel bit her lip. "Maybe he's just in a bad mood. But Seamus doesn't usually get in bad moods." She frowned. "Well, whatever it is, he'd better get over it before Friday, 'cause I don't want him leaving for hols like this."

"Whatever," said Katelyn, stretching and yawning like a big cat. "I've got work to do before bed, so."

"Yeah," Rachel sighed. "I need to get back to the library, after all."

"You're so boring!" Tanya exclaimed. "Stay here and party!"

"I'll have plenty of time to party if I fail this exam," Rachel retorted, "because I won't get a decent job."

Tanya blew a raspberry at her, and that was that—for now, at least.


	25. Future Prisoners of Azkaban

**Chapter Twenty-Five:**

**Future Prisoners of Azkaban**

Seamus, as it turned out, was taking Rachel's snub much harder than anyone expected. After the fifth application of his cold shoulder, Rachel decided that she had had quite enough.

"Look, you," she snapped at his retreating back. People in the Common Room looked up—it had been so long since they had witnessed a Seamus-Rachel fight that they almost got annoyed before they remembered.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Seamus Finnigan," she continued tightly, balling her fists.

"What's gotten into _you_?" he retorted intelligently.

"You're the one with the problem. _I_ haven't done anything!"

"Then have a nice life with Ernie Macmillan," he said bitterly and then stalked upstairs.

"What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?" Rachel cried after him.

"I'll go get him," Dean said after Hannah elbowed him in the ribs.

"Good boy," said Hannah with a smile. "Rachel, come sit down—you and Seamus had been doing so well!'

Rachel flung herself into a cushy armchair by the window. "It's like someone flipped a switch in his brain! What on earth have I done to deserve this?"

"Not to rain on your pity party," said Katelyn suddenly, "but Hannah's owl is at the window."

Hannah leapt up and flung open the window. Her owl was a bit bedraggled and damp, and it gratefully ate the treat she gave it before flying off again. Tanya closed the window as Hannah tore the letter open and sat down again.

"It's from Haley," Hannah announced. The girls gathered around her immediately.

"What does she say?" Tanya pressed.

"Just a minute," Hannah said, scanning the note. "Okay. Here we go.

"'_Dear girls,_

_"'Only a few more days until the Christmas holidays start, eh? How exciting! And then only a week until Christmas! That's _super _exciting! I wish I could have you all over to spend the break with me and Oliver, but we're going to stay with his parents in Glasgow. (Should be fun!)_

_"'Speaking of Ollie Bear, he's off at conditioning again. The captain likes to run the team ragged right before extended breaks—makes up for all the pudding and fruitcake they'll be eating, he thinks._

_"'As such, I'm here with the cat and Ollie Junior. I've been able to balance a lamp on my belly. Isn't that exciting? I'll almost be sad when I pop this kid out. Almost._

_"'Anyway. I've been keeping myself busy. Did you know that Annie and Jim on _Family Affairs _are getting married? Finally! Oh, and I've decided to become an Animagus. Yeah, it's actually really easy. I found it in an old spellbook here in the house. It starts with a potion:_

_ "'2 cups extract of wormwood_

_ "'1 snake's skin_

_ "'5 quarts of extract of pine sap_

_ "'1 cup chopped ginger_

_ "'1 bezoar, crushed_

_ "'Sprinkle of sopophourus_

_ "'1 teaspoon armadillo bile_

_ "'4 cups of cold water_

_ "'8 newt's eggs_

_"'Mix the ingredients and let them sit for a few minutes until the solution is a swampy green. Then boil them for three hours, stirring occasionally, and adding a cup of beetle juice slowly._

_"'After the potion is ready, there's this really complicated spell you perform on it before you drink it. The spell is as follows: "_aceasta este o vraja care le-am inventat pentru a schimba persoana spunand ca intr-un animale."

"_'But I don't want you guys trying this, not at all! The spell and potion recipe were handwritten in the margins of a really old book that I found while doing some fall cleaning. I doubt anyone else knows about it, actually! So I'm going to make the potion tonight, and I'll write you when I find out what it does! DON'T DO IT. EVER._

_"'Love ya all!_

_"'Haley.'"_

There were a few moments of silence. Then Tanya said what they were all thinking. "She's gone insane! What about the baby! And doesn't the Ministry regulate Animagism pretty heavily?"

"Big Brother," muttered Rachel, who was not in much of a mood to look kindly on anyone.

Everyone ignored her. "We can't let her do this," Katelyn protested.

Hannah looked at the letter grimly. "It's dated to almost a week ago. She's done it."

"I hope she's not dead," Tanya said lightly.

Katelyn looked at the letter over Hannah's shoulder. "You know, I've always wanted to be an Animagus…"

Hannah snatched the letter away from Katelyn's line of sight. "Don't be silly, Katelyn."

From out of nowhere, Rachel reached out and took the letter from Hannah, looking at it thoughtfully. "This looks like a combination of the Perpetual Change spell and a bit of fancy Potions-work. I'm not bad at Transfiguration, and Hannah's always been a whiz at Potions…"

"Is Rachel Hekman suggesting we break the rules?" Katelyn gasped.

"Not break them," Rachel protested, "just bend them a little bit."

"No," Hannah said firmly, taking the letter back. "I refuse to take any part in this foolish endeavor."

"Fine," said Katelyn. "We'll do it without you. And if our potion is successful, we'll all be Animagi and you'll be so jealous. And if our potion fails, we'll all die and you'll get to feel guilty about it for the rest of your life."

Rachel and Tanya applauded Schmo's masterful logic as Hannah scowled.

"Fine," she snapped. "I'll do it. But if we all die or get sent away to Azkaban, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Who's going to Azkaban?" Dean asked, coming back down the stairs and rejoining the little group. "Speaking of which, I couldn't get Seamus to come down. He seems pretty upset."

Everyone looked at Rachel. By way of reaction, she bit her lip rather hard but merely nodded. "We should get started on our homework," she said with false bravado."

They murmured in response. But while Dean, Tanya, Katelyn and Rachel dug in their bags for textbooks and parchment, Hannah looked pensively at Haley's letter and began to decide where she could procure such ingredients…


	26. Seamus the Ice King

**Chapter Twenty-Six:**

**Seamus the Ice King**

With only three days left before the Christmas holiday, everyone's tempers were running short. Seamus continued to give Rachel the cold shoulder, who in turn wore the most painful fake smile you've ever seen everywhere she went; Katelyn was a source of constant annoyance, as a nervous habit of hers was crinkling and uncrinkling bits of paper quite absentmindedly' even Dean and Hannah had a brief falling-out on Wednesday afternoon, though they had quite made up by dinnertime.

No; the only bright spot for the Funny Farm that week was the arrival of Haley's second letter on Thursday night. As soon as Hannah opened the letter and saw who it was from, she and the three other girls retreated into one of the cozy little window seats that faced the Forbidden Forest, far away from the other Gryffindors who were hurriedly finishing last-minute assignments.

"'_Dear girls,_'" Hannah began to read.

"'_Success! Eureka! Gesundheit, and all other sorts of triumphant exclamations!_

_"'The spell-potion thingy worked! You are looking at a bona-fide Animagus! (Well, not necessarily _looking_ at, but you know what I mean.)_

_"'Without going into too much detail—wouldn't want you rascally little ones getting any ideas—let me just say it was not the most pleasant experience ever, but it was well worth it._

_"'"Haley," I can just hear you saying, "what is the form thy Animagus form hast ta'en?" The answer, dearest brats, is a wolf, just like my Patronus. So if you're curious to know what you'd be as an Animagus, cast a Patronus.'"_

"Is that the _Expecto Patronum_ spell?" Rachel mused aloud. "We haven't learned that yet."

"'_Or maybe your Animagus form decides your Patronus. I don't know. Whatever. At any rate, I am now an Animagus! I'll register with the Ministry tomorrow, if I can manage it._

_"'Well, you'd best go back to finishing your homework. I wish Rachel good luck on her candidacy exam this Saturday!_

_"'I miss you all quite a lot!_

_"'Love,_

_"'Haley.'"_

"Aw, that was sweet," Tanya cooed.

Katelyn waved off her little comment. "Don't you see what this means?" she hissed excitedly. "It means that it _can_ be done. We're going to be Animagi!"

Rachel shushed her hurriedly. "Not so loud! I don't think Umbridge would look very kindly on this little endeavor of ours."

"Oh, forget Umbridge," Katelyn pouted.

"Well, I know what we get to do over holiday," Tanya crowed. "This is so exciting!"

"Yeah," Katelyn said, "Hannah, you've only got one more day to get the tuff we need to make the potion."

"Ssh," Rachel repeated.

"I'm working on it, I'm working on it," Hannah sighed.

Rachel clapped her hands. "Well, I've got to get back to studying."

"Yeah, probably," the other girls sighed.

"We can discuss this more later," Katelyn said firmly. (She clearly wasn't about to let this opportunity pass them by.)

"Okay, fine," Hannah said. "Now let Rachel study!"

* * *

Friday dawned bright and early. For the students who were leaving for home that night, it could not have come early enough.

Seamus's icy demeanor didn't thaw one degree, even though he was set to be gone from the Funny Farm for 3.5 weeks. He insisted on eating with Neville and Luna rather than with the Funny Farm, and his constant rejection of Rachel and her attempts at reconciliation drove her to distraction.

It all came to a head on Friday afternoon. Rachel, her arms laden with books and papers, was heading back from the library, a bit late for dinner. As she was going, Seamus came around the corner behind her and, pointedly ignoring her, walked quickly around her. She spied his sandy blonde hair over her stack of textbooks.

"Seamus, wait," she called out.

He seemed to pause just a moment, but closed his eyes briefly and darted away around a corner.

Rachel took a deep breath of hurt feelings, and just as she did, the toe of her shoe caught the rough edge of a flagstone. Stumbling, she lost her hold on all the books, and they went scattering across the corridor; landing on their spines and bending their covers, the books loosed their contents, spilling dozens of pages of carefully organized notes all over the ground.

Kneeling in the aftermath of multiple failures, Rachel burst into tears.

A moment later, Seamus's head popped around the corner. He clearly was waging a great battle within himself: a moment later, he turned away, only to run a hand through his hair, squint his eyes a little, and turn back, even though all stubbornness told him to do otherwise. Looking rather like a guilty puppy, he snuck back into the corridor, picking up the books and bending their covers back into place.

"What did I do?" Rachel said in a watery voice as he mulishly stacked the books up nearby.

He ignored the question, instead focusing on arranging the books just so.

"Seamus," Rachel insisted. "_Why_ are you so angry at me? What did I do?"

He tried to answer, but couldn't manage to look her in the eye, so he swallowed around the lump in his throat and rubbed an imaginary pencil stain off one of the books.

Rachel wiped her cheeks with her sleeve as more tears leaked out. "You can't treat me like this, Seamus Finnigan," she burst out, snatching her books from him. "If you think you can be cruel and heartless whenever you feel like it, you've got another thing coming!"

She stumbled to her feet and stomped off, leaving half her notes behind.

"Wait," he said, standing up. "Please."

Rachel stopped and turned partway around, hugging her books.

Seamus fought the words for a moment before they spilled out of his mouth. "You didn't do anything. _You didn't do anything._"

She looked at him. "Then why are you so mad at me?"

His bashfulness overcame him, and he ran a hand though his hair. "I—well…erm. See…when…that one time when you and—E…Ernie Macmillan were in the library, and you said you didn't have time for me—"

"I never said that," Rachel interrupted. "Ernie's taking the exam with me, and I—"

"Wait, you said he's taking the exam with you?" Seamus asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Rachel said, blinking. "We were studying for it together when you asked me about History of Magic."

Seamus looked a little dazed. "So you're not—you were just—"

"Just studying," Rachel said firmly.

"Oh." He stood there stupidly.

"Yeah," Rachel said again. "I can be friends with other people, you know."

"I know, I—I don't know hwy it made me so upset. Well, I mean, I _do_, but—"

"Aren't you going to tell me?"

"It's not important," he said, turning pink.

Rachel shook her head. "Whatever the case may be…you just can't treat me like that, Seamus!"

"I know, I just…"

"You _can't_."

Seamus dropped his head and squinted at her left shoe. "You're right. I'm sorry."

His apology made Rachel soften. "It's okay. Just don't do it again. Please."

"I won't. I promise."

She allowed a slight smile to spread briefly across her face, and Seamus was encouraged by it, enough to say, "Actually, the reason I got so mad—I can't believe I'm actually going to tell you this, it's taken me three years to work up the courage—but—"

And then he was interrupted by the unwelcome intrusion of a gaggle of second-year Slytherins, who giggled at the sight of the rather foolish-looking Gryffindors.

"We're going to miss dinner if we don't hurry," Seamus finished with a barely audible sigh as they left, picking up what was left of the fallen notebooks and papers.

"Wait, aren't you going to tell me why—"

"It's just because I hate Macmillan," Seamus lied quickly, taking Rachel's books from her arms.

"That's a stupid reason."

"I know."

Before he could walk away, Rachel flung her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his sleeve, the fabric soaking up what was left of her tears. "I hate it when we fight," she murmured.

Seamus wrapped his free arm around her waist and held her close. "Especially when it's my fault," he said archly, steering her forward at a leisurely walk.

"Exactly," Rachel replied with a laugh that was still slightly moist. "Maybe I should rephrase that. I hate it when we're mean to each other."

"So you like it when we fight?"

"Maybe."

"That's okay. I like it too. Keeps things interesting, y'know."

"Aye," Rachel teased, tucking her arm around his back.

Seamus lightly pinched the soft skin of her side. "Quiet woman," he growled.

"You'd hate it if I listened to you."

He grunted noncommittally, and Rachel smiled until they reached the Great Hall.


	27. It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like

**Chapter Twenty-Seven:**

**It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like…**

"Where have you two been?" Dean said as Rachel and Seamus, grinning ear-to-ear, came into the Great Hall and made everyone move over to make room for them.

Katelyn stared as Seamus carefully placed the stack of books he'd been carrying under Rachel's seat before sitting down. "Nice of you to join us again."

Seamus tried to look aloof, but his pink ears gave away his shame.

"It's okay," Rachel said lightly. "He's just been busy lately."

"Yeah, what with you going home with everyone else tonight, I'm sure you've been quite swamped with work," Tanya offered helpfully.

_"Oh._" Seamus looked quite disgusted with himself.

"What's the matter?" Hannah asked.

"I suppose I'm going home tonight," he answered.

"You haven't…"

"Packed? Nope?"

Everyone face-palmed. "Eat fast," Tanya counseled.

He sighed and went about his business.

"Anyway," Hannah said broadly. "We _had_ been discussing the Weasleys and their red hair."

Katelyn giggled.

"I wonder if all their cousins are gingers," Tanya mused.

Katelyn giggled again and looked at Rachel.

"What?"

"You've always had a taste for gingers," Katelyn said, trying to keep a straight face.

"What a dreadful way of putting it!" Rachel retorted as Seamus choked on a mouthful of pumpkin juice. While Dean pounded on his friend's back, she added, "I'll have you know I rather like blondes."

Seamus began coughing yet again, red to the tips of his ears.

"Do you need to leave?" Hannah asked sternly. Rachel demurely sipped from her goblet.

"Anyway," Katelyn shrugged. "How did studying go?"

"Not too bad," Rachel answered. "I feel quite confident, actually. I'm ready for tomorrow."

"Good!" said Dean.

"Yeah, we're ready for you to take that thing, too," Tanya said kindly. "We miss having you around."

"Thanks, Tanya," Rachel answered with a smile.

"Well," Katelyn said with a stretch. "I'm about done."

"Yeah, me too," Rachel agreed. "I want to take a break before going back to studying."

"And I guess I need to pack," Seamus said with a sigh.

"Do you need help?" Rachel asked.

Seamus started to say no, he didn't need any help, but then he realized what he was doing and quickly amended his answer to, "Yeah, that'd be nice."

"Okay," Rachel said brightly.

Dean gave Seamus a thumbs-up.

"I can't believe you _forgot_ you're going home tonight," Tanya said as Seamus scooped up Rachel's books and everyone else prepared to leave the Great Hall. "I wish _I _could go home for Christmas."

There was general agreement, but Seamus shrugged. "I'd prefer it more if my family would come here. I spend so much time away from them that it always feels strange to be back home."

"But your family," Katelyn prodded. "Your parents and Kathleen. Don't you miss them?"

"Yeah, he admitted."

"Then it'll be fine," Hannah said. "A carriage a train, Side-Along Apparition, and boom, you're sleeping in your own bed again."

Seamus smiled a little.

"Welsh Opaleye," said Dean, and the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open.

"Go pack," Tanya scolded Seamus as the Funny Farm scattered across the Common Room.

"I'm going, I'm going," he groused, handing Rachel her books.

"I'll put these upstairs first," she said. "Meet you in your room."

"Okay," Seamus said, and bounded upstairs.

"Don't forget our bet," Dean said off-handedly as Rachel disappeared into the girls' dorm.

"I won't forget, because I'm going to win," Tanya replied.

Meanwhile, Rachel had entered the boys' dorm, where Seamus was cleaning out his trunk already.

"Pack your green sweater," she said, flopping spread-eagled onto his bed.

"Why?"

"Because it's festive, and you look nice in it."

He tossed the sweater in question into the now-empty trunk. "I don't suppose I'll need my Kestrels sweater."

"Mm, no, I think you're right."

"Uncle Malachy is a Ballycastle Bats fan, anyway."

"Good decision."

Seamus sniffed a pair of socks, considered it for a moment, and then tossed them into his trunk. "D'you want to come with me?"

Rachel rolled onto her stomach, looking at him with her chin in her hand. "To Ireland."

"Yeah. For Christmas. Or longer, if you'd prefer, I'm not picky…"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"because I already told your mam I wouldn't."

"Oh, don't be a git—sorry—what I mean is, she would love it if you came with, and my family absolutely loves you, and—"

"No, Seamus," Rachel interrupted gently but firmly. "That wouldn't be fair for you all. It's the first Christmas since the Captain died, and…_oh,"_ she said, realization dawning on her. "_That's_ why you're so reluctant to go home, isn't it?"

He threw a pair of Muggle jeans and set of wizard's robes into his trunk. "Not necessarily."

"Yes, necessarily."

He scowled.

"Oh, Seamus. I'm so sorry. But you've got to do it. If there's any time when families, and Wizarding families especially, have got to stick together…well, it's now."

"That's not going to make it any easier."

"I know."

They sat in silence for a minute before Rachel said, "Pack extra parchment and ink."

"Why?"

"Because you're going to write me all the time while you're home. I like your family quite a lot, and I wish I could see them again."

"You could always come home with me," Seamus tried.

Rachel eyed him beadily and rolled over, sighing dramatically. Seamus fell back onto the bed beside her, and they stared up at the ceiling together.

"And if you go anywhere, be sure to take pictures," Rachel added. "I love Ireland."

"Would you ever want to live there?" Seamus asked.

"I don't know…yeah, probably. Somewhere where I can breathe…on the heaths or in the hills…why do you ask?"

"Dunno. Just curious, I guess."

The two fell back into companionable silence. After a few minutes, the door opened, and Neville came halfway in before stopping awkwardly and saying, "Oh, sorry—"

"No, Neville, it's okay," said Rachel, sitting up. "I was just about to leave. Seamus, we should be getting you downstairs to the carriages."

"Yeah, I guess," he sighed, getting up and waving his wand over what was left of his belongings. They jumped up and deposited themselves in his trunk, and he shut the lid. "Toss me my coat, would you?" he asked Rachel, who did so.

"I'll walk you down to the Entrance Hall, if you want," Rachel offered.

"Sure," Seamus answered. "Bye, Neville."

"Bye, Seamus. Happy Christmas."

Rachel waved to Neville as she and Seamus went downstairs. "All packed?" Tanya asked brightly when she spotted them.

"More or less," Seamus answered. "Happy Christmas, you all."

"Happy Christmas, Seamus," the Funny Farm replied, getting up to say their goodbyes.

"Come back safe," Hannah said, hugging him. "We'll save your presents for when you get back."

"Yeah, when is that?" Dean asked as he shook hands with Seamus.

"Dunno," Seamus replied. "Probably the Sunday after New Year."

"So far away," Katelyn groaned. "We see how it is. Go on, abandon us! Leave! Begone!"

Seamus grinned. "Bye, mates."

"Bye!"

Rachel hooked her hand around his arm. "Come on, Finnigan, you've got a carriage to catch."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled lightheartedly. "Come along, then."

"Be back in a bit," Rachel told the rest of the Funny Farm as they waved goodbye.

"I'll miss that boy," said Hannah as the portrait swung closed.

"I'll miss 'em," Seamus was saying in the meanwhile as he and Rachel walked together down from Gryffindor Tower.

"Eh, you'll forget about us soon enough," Rachel teased.

"Who?"

She laughed, squeezing his elbow. "Christmas just won't be the same without you."

"Y'know, I was just thinking the same thing."

"Oh! But look—it's snowing!" Rachel pointed to a window that they were passing. Sure enough, big, fluffy flakes were drifting past it, and the panes of glass were starting to fog over. "I so wanted a white Christmas."

They skipped down a flight of stairs. "I'll bet it's snowed in Graiguenmanagh," Seamus crowed. "Well, anyway, if it didn't, my mam will make it. We haven't had a snow-less Christmas in over fifteen years…"

Rachel laughed. "I love your mother! Now watch this. Stay here." As she spoke, she sat on the banister that led down into the Entrance Hall and slid gracefully all the way down, only tripping a little bit at the bottom as she got off.

"When did you learn to do _that_?" Seamus called to her.

"Ages ago! Try it!"

Always game, Seamus clambered up and sailed down after her, gaining momentum until he jumped off at the end and crushed a few of Rachel's toes in the process. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"No matter—I grade on a learning curve. _Accio trunk._"

Seamus caught his trunk with a spell of his own and checked his watch. "Ugh. I suppose I really ought to go."

"I can see the carriages from here," Rachel said, peeping out of a window.

He looked at her. "Well, I guess I can take it from here."

"I guess."

"Happy Christmas, and a good New Year!"

"You too. Be good!"

"I'll try."

Rachel gave a little bounce on the balls of her feet before stepping forward and wrapping Seamus in a warm hug. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too. And Rachel?"

"Yes?"

"I'm really sorry about…"

"Forget about it."

They parted, and there was a brief and awkward pause during which they both thought about saying and doing things that, of course, they could never say or do.

"Bye," Rachel whispered.

Seamus, who suddenly found himself extremely unwilling to part ways with her, had to swallow once before returning the farewell.

"Don't forget to write," Rachel called after him.

"I won't. Do well tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," Rachel said.

He looked at her a moment longer before turning to go.

"Wait," she said at the last moment, running forward. Seamus spun around at the sound of her voice, and she caught him in another bear hug. "This is for your mom," she said fiercely. "And also for your dad."

Then she caught the collar of his shirt and pulled his face down to hers, planting a gentle kiss in the middle of his forehead. "And that's for Kathleen."

"What," he said, his ears red, "I don't get anything?"

She took his collar again and this time placed a soft kiss on his left cheek. "That's for you. Good enough?"

"It'll do for now," he grumbled, the flush running from his ears to cover his entire face.

"You'd better go."

"Yeah. I'd better."

He turned his collar up, waved once more, and disappeared into the swirling snow outside.

Rachel couldn't help but feel a little sad on her solitary return to Gryffindor Tower. 'Did you send him on his way?" Hannah asked when she got back to the Common Room.

"Yep."

"Did you snog him?" Katelyn asked.

"No."

"Oh, come on! You missed a perfect opportunity!"

"Don't remind me," Rachel sighed.

"It's okay," Tanya said soothingly. "As soon as your exam is over, we'll have plenty to do to get your mind off things…"

Katelyn clapped with excitement.

"Oh, yeah!" Rachel said, some of her cheerfulness returning. "What an adventure!"

"Huh?" said Dean.

"Girl stuff, dear, don't listen," Hannah said.

"Well, I'd better go study," Rachel sighed sadly.

"Yes. But tomorrow afternoon…we become rebels!"


	28. The Call of the Wild

**Chapter Twenty-Eight:**

**The Call of the Wild**

The next morning, the first day of the Christmas holiday, the Funny Farm came downstairs rather late in the morning to find Rachel in the nearly-empty common room curled up in front of the fireplace with her nose in a book.

"Shouldn't you be taking that exam?" Dean asked, checking his watch.

Rachel looked up. "Good morning to you, too. For your information, I finished taking the exam roughly an hour ago."

"And?"

"I think I aced it," she said with a grin, standing up. "I was too nervous to eat much, though—what do you guys say to a spot of breakfast?"

Everyone readily agreed, and they all headed down to the Great Hall. "So, what's our plan for today?" Katelyn asked around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"Play in the snow!" Tanya exclaimed.

"Haley's letter," Katelyn said cryptically.

"Let's play games!" Rachel suggested.

"Owl post," said Dean.

Hannah poured maple syrup over her oatmeal. "I can't wait for Christmas! We'll have to decorate our room."

As she and Katelyn argued about the extent to which this decorating would occur, Rachel was visited by a slightly bedraggled-looking owl, who looked only too willing to have its letter removed.

"From who?" Tanya asked out of vague curiosity.

Rachel slit the seal, scanned the note, and brightened considerably. "Seamus!"

"He's been gone all of sixteen hours," Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"He wants to know how my exam went," Rachel said defensively.

Katelyn held her hand out for the letter—correspondence was to be freely shared—but Rachel, for the first time in her life, refused to share. Instead, she read the note to herself, going pink with pleasure but otherwise giving no hint to the Funny Farm of the letter's contents.

'_Dear Su_,' it read.

_'By the time you get this, it'll probably be breakfast time, and if my estimation of your abilities is correct, you will have finished that exam (and probably aced it). How did it go? What was on it? Were you able to remember Fermat's Theory of Early Wizarding Childhood after all?_

_'Anyway, I want to hear all about it. When I woke up this morning, the first thing I thought of was you and that test, and I feel rather emotionally invested in it (I didn't help you study for nothing, after all)._

_'Yeah. I bet you really don't want to think about it anymore, do you? In that case, my mam and da told me to say hi for them—I'm in the kitchen with them right now. Mam tried to make some sort of breakfast casserole this morning, but it's from a Muggle box and she's never been very good at Muggle cooking. My da's taken over for now._

_'The O'Malley clan is going to visit us tomorrow. Uncle Roran is going to take us all to visit some Wizarding Places of Importance, as he calls them. I will be sure to send pictures. If they're any good, maybe he'll take us when you come to visit again._

_'Well, my da's successfully produced a legitimate casserole, so I'll be going now. Write me when you get a chance! _

_'My parents send their love! See you in a few weeks._

_'Yours,_

_'Seamus._'

Rachel couldn't help but smile to herself as she folded up the piece of parchment and put it in her pocket.

* * *

It wasn't until later that day, after the girls were tired out from playing in the snow, that Hannah pulled out Haley's letter. "Ready?"

"Yes," Katelyn said immediately, jumping up.

"Where are we going?" Dean asked.

"We're going to talk to Rachel about her Seamus troubles," Tanya answered lightly.

"Wait, what?" Rachel said, right before Katelyn cast a quiet Silencing Spell on her.

Dean wrinkled his nose. "Have fun."

"Oh, we will," said Hannah, picking up her backpack (which clinked and sloshed rather suspiciously).

Trying to keep their pace casual, the girls left the Common Room. As soon as the portrait swung closed, Katelyn lifted the Silencing Spell from Rachel.

"I don't see why that was necessary—"

"We're going up to the Astronomy Tower," Hannah interrupted. "The classroom at the very top, right under the observation deck. No one goes up there."

"Are you ready to make the potion?" Tanya asked.

"I think so. I have everything Haley said I needed."

"And are you ready to say the spell, Rachel?"

"We'll find out."

They climbed the stairs to the Astronomy classroom in silence. Sure enough, the room was dark and empty, and Tanya lit some lamps while Rachel walked around the perimeter, casting protective spells. Hannah sat down in the middle and set up her cauldron; she lit a fire under the kettle and began adding ingredients, humming rather nervously.

"I can't help but feel this is a bad idea," Rachel started, and was shushed immediately.

Slowly, the concoction in Hannah's small cauldron began to turn a pearlescent blue color. The mist that rose into the air shimmered and sparkled, and it made the girls' chests feel tingly as the magic began to seep into their blood.

"I think it's ready," Hannah whispered.

It took a moment for Rachel to stir from her daze and come to zit by Hannah. With a hand that was strangely steady, she pulled out her wand and dipped it into the potion, stirring slowly. The color of the liquid inside the cauldron began to turn colors, now becoming a pale green.

"Say the incantation," Tanya murmured.

Rachel took a deep breath and began to recite the complicated spell that Haley had written down, still stirring with her wand. "_Aceasta este o vraja care le-am inventat pentru a schimba persoana spunand ca intr-un animale_," she whispered. As she spoke, the potion congealed to the consistency of potato soup and turned a dark purplish-red color. The haze grew thicker.

"Is it ready?" Katelyn asked, breaking the silence.

"I—I think so," Hannah said.

"Well?"

"Are you volunteering to go first?"

Katelyn raised her eyebrows. "Yes."

Wordlessly, Hannah dipped a beaker into the concoction and handed it to Katelyn. Katelyn took it, sniffed it suspiciously, and then downed the entire potion in one gulp.

Hannah, Tanya, and Rachel stared in breathless anticipation. Katelyn grimaced as she set the beaker down. Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light and an outpouring of smoke that blinded the onlookers. When the billowing smog finally cleared, Katelyn was flat on her back, steam still wafting from her nostrils.

"Katelyn!" Rachel cried. "Quick, Tanya, go get Madam Pomfrey—"

"No, no," said Katelyn coughing as she sat up. "I'm okay."

"How do you feel?" Tanya asked anxiously.

Katelyn paused in thought. "A bit tingly…not altogether bad. I think I'd better take a brief turn about the room, steady my legs…"

As she spoke, she leaned forward to push herself up. But instead of standing up as a human girl, her limbs changed length, her back lowered, and she grew a thick coat of tawny fur—in fact, she was by anyone's estimation a very fine-looking lioness!

Tanya stifled a scream. Katelyn froze in place, evidently realizing that something fundamental about her body had changed, but was quite sure what, exactly, had happened.

"Don't move, Katelyn," Hannah cautioned, her hands over her mouth. Rachel circled around the animal-that-had-once-been-Katelyn, then carefully ran her hand across the tawny shoulders. Katelyn's legs trembled.

"You're a lion," Hannah whispered. "But for some reason…I can tell you're still Katelyn. I think you still look like yourself…kind of."

"I think it's the eyes," Rachel said. "They're still Katelyn's eyes.

"Can you say something?" Tanya asked. "I mean, can you still talk?"

Lion-Katelyn made a funny mewling sound, then shook her great head.

"Hm, I didn't think so," said Hannah.

"Can I call you Simba?" Rachel asked.

Katelyn growled, a genuinely alarming sound.

"Okay, Nala it is, then," Rachel amended.

"Walk around a bit," Tanya urged.

Katelyn, hesitant, began to move forward, tripping a bit on her big paws. Her tail swung around and hit Rachel and Hannah in the knees, but they hardly noticed, so transfixed were they by Katelyn's lionish form.

"Okay, how do you change back?" Tanya asked.

Katelyn blinked at her, then growled a bit and made an odd jerking motion with the front of her body; the next moment, Katelyn was stumbling forward with a human body. "Whoa! That was trippy!"

"How did you do it?" Rachel asked curiously.

"I think you have to be very conscious about wanting to change," Katelyn mused, flexing her fingers. "And I think you have to move."

There was a brief silence, which Tanya broke by saying, "I want to go now!"

Hannah ran to the cauldron, which was still steaming, and ladled some of the potion out for Tanya, who took it eagerly.

"You'd better sit down," Katelyn warned.

Tanya did so, looked at the beaker for a moment, and then took a huge mouthful. "Tastes a bit like prunes," she observed, setting down the glass. Then, the flash of light, the smoke, and Tanya was stretched out on her side.

"How do you feel?" Katelyn pressed.

Tanya leapt to her feet. "Good! Now let's try this…" And she strode forward with purpose until, quite suddenly, her limbs lengthened, her hands and feet hardened and darkened, and her general size and bulk increased until, instead of Tanya's slight frame standing in front of them, there was a delicately-boned pale horse with a long blonde mane and tail.

Horse-Tanya stared at them with blue eyes that looked quite normal on a human being but were rather unusual on a horse. Her long, spindly legs quivered. "I'm gonna call you Flicka," Rachel crowed.

"Well, take a step," Hannah said.

Tanya picked up a hoof and set it down most fearfully. Then a back hoof, then another, until she was high-stepping rather comically around the room. At one point, Hannah had to dive to keep Tanya's back hoof from knocking over the cauldron of potion, which had taken over three hours to prepare.

"Well, what do you think?" Katelyn asked.

Tanya tossed her mane and then changed back into her human form, looking a little pale. "It's very strange, walking on one's hands," she admitted. "I think I shall have to get used to it first…"

"No shame in that," Katelyn agreed. "I would be much more afraid of falling as a 2,000 pound beast of burden then as a light, stealthy cat."

Tanya narrowed her eyes, and Hannah quickly stepped between them with a beaker full of potion. "My turn!" she sing-songed.

Dutifully, they all sat down again and waited as Hannah quaffed the potion, gagging a little bit at the bittersweet taste. "You're right," she choked. "Gross."

When the smoke cleared away for the third time, Hannah sat up and pushed herself to her feet, a little woozy from the strength of the potion.

"Well?" Katelyn pressed.

Hannah narrowed her eyes, set her jaw, and moved forward very purposefully, just as Katelyn and Tanya had. However, whereas Tanya and Katelyn had grown, Hannah shrank rapidly and alarmingly, her already pale skin growing white until, standing at their feet, there was a small, bright-eyed Jack Russell terrier who looked up at them with an adorably tilted head.

"She looks like Wishbone!" Rachel squealed.

"Aw!" Tanya said, reaching to pick Hannah up.

The terrier growled quite fearsomely, displaying sharp teeth, and Tanya quickly backed off.

"You're so cute," Rachel assured Hannah, who had picked up a little white paw and was inspecting it curiously. "I could just eat you up! I want to get you one of those little baskets and a matching sweater and…"

As Rachel went on, Hannah took a step forward and changed back to her human form, flexing her fingers. "You're getting weird about it," she informed Rachel, who had a confused look on her face.

"Speaking of Rachel," Katelyn said slyly, "it's her turn."

Rachel paled a bit. "Mm…okay," she said nervously as Hannah handed her a beaker of the potion.

"Drink it!" Tanya urged.

Rachel grimaced, tilted the beaker towards her mouth, and then downed it quickly in one gulp.

"Well?" said Katelyn.

"_Gaaaak_. That was disgusting."

"Who cares what it _tastes_ like—stand up and see if it worked!"

Rachel obeyed slowly. "I feel really tingly."

"Good. Now, just do what we did."

"Yes, master," she grumbled, taking a step forward. But she disappeared so fast that Tanya, Hannah, and Katelyn lost track of her! Only a few moments later, when they heard a perplexed chirping sound, did they think to look down, rather than around. There, its claws clattering on the stone floor, was a mottled brown bird with fierce-looking eyes and a sharp beak.

Nevertheless, Katelyn had to suppress a snort.

"Don't look now," Hannah told Rachel, trying not to laugh, "but you're a bird. A hawk of some sort."

The hawk chirped and turned its head.

"Try to fly," Tanya cheered. "Go on!"

Rachel spread her wings (the breadth of them was actually rather startling), flapped them once or twice, and gave a pitiful hop.

"Oh, you can do better than that," Tanya said as Katelyn and Hannah muffled giggles. "Try again."

Hawk-Rachel glared at the two of them with piercing yellow eyes, but gave her wings a few powerful pumps. This time she managed to get a good few feet off the ground, and she had nearly succeeded in making a circle about the room when she lost control and plummeted to the ground, knocking over a chair in the process.

At this, Hannah and Katelyn also lost control and burst into near-hysterical laughter. Rachel popped up from the wreckage, looking angry, but no one stopped laughing until she put her wings back, looking very much like one of the gargoyles on the sides of the castle, and let out the terrifying, piercing scream of a bird of prey homing in on its lunch. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks, going a bit white.

_"Whoa!_" Katelyn said after a pause. "…Do that again!"

Hawk-Rachel gladly obliged, letting out a louder and even more terrifying screech.

"Frightful!" Tanya breathed, looking rather faint.

Rachel morphed back to her human form, red-faced and nursing a large bruise on her shin. "Frightful! That's what you'll call me! Like the falcon in _My Side of the Mountain_…"

"Whatever," Katelyn sighed.

"No, I think it's a good idea," Hannah cut in. "We can't talk in public about 'that thing you did when you were a lion,' can we? But if we said, 'that thing that Nala did'…"

Tanya laughed. "And I'm your friend Flicka…haha! Awesome!"

"_Fine_," Katelyn sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Well, I suppose we ought to clean up," Hannah mused, looking at the mess of potion, ingredients, papers, and spoons.

"Agreed," said Rachel as Katelyn and Tanya groaned. "I'm tired and I want to go to bed at a reasonable hour, but I also want to reply to Seamus's letter beforehand."

Hannah caught the taller girl's arm. "You can't tell him about this."

"Why not?" Rachel asked, aghast. "Don't you trust him?"

"It's not that," Hannah soothed. "But you know what they say about secrets—the secrecy is diluted with every person we share it with."

"You _are_ saying you don't trust him!"

"I do trust him! I do!" cried Hannah. "But what if we get caught? He'll get in trouble for being an accessory to the fact. That's why I'm not going to tell Dan, and Tanya's not going to tell Terry, and Katelyn's not going to tell…well, she's not going to tell anyone."

Rachel bit her lip and looked rather dejected. "But…I tell him everything."

"Except for one _minor_ detail," Katelyn chirruped, darting past with an armful of bottles.

"I can't tell him that," Rachel whined, "you don't know what it's—"

"Oh, spare us," Katelyn sighed. "You've let us know _all_ about it. And frankly, I think you should either tell him or give up on him. How's he supposed to know you like him if you don't tell him?"

The look Rachel gave Katelyn was so akin to the piercing hawk's glare that Katelyn decided it was best to shut up, and so they all packed up and headed back downstairs to Gryffindor Tower.


	29. More Than Kisses

**Chapter Twenty-Nine:**

…**Letters Mingle Souls**

Rachel mailed her letter to Seamus early the next morning. It read:

_'Dear Seamus,_

_'You _are_ a dear. Your letter came just in time to cheer me up. Don't worry—I think I did fairly well on the test. But I hardly want to talk about it now, when there's nothing more I can do about it! No, I want to hear about _you_. What are you up to, off in Ireland like you are? I won't lie and say that I don't wish I was there with you. Now that my test is over, it's rather dull without you. Most everyone has gone home, you can imagine. The girls and Dean and I are doing our best to make some adventures to fill the time, and a couple of times we've succeeded, but it only serves to mask the fact that I do _miss_ you!_

_'Anyway. Don't bother telling me what you want for Christmas, because I've already thought of something and am going to quite some trouble to get it here, so I don't want to be disappointed._

_'Speaking of Christmases, I've always wondered how, and if, Irish Christmases—or maybe Wizarding ones—are different from American—Muggle—Christmases. Bear with me; you know I'm a curious person._

_'Well, you're probably sick of hearing from me; after all, you're home with family! You're on holiday! So enjoy yourself, Finnigan. I look forward to seeing you again. Say hello to your family for me._

_'Yours truly,_

_'Sushi.'

* * *

_

The Funny Farm spent the next week in quiet, getting a bit ahead on homework, playing card games, reading books, and resting. While this was all fine and good, it soon became monotonous, and Christmas seemed as though it would never come.

Rachel seemed to be having the worst of it. No one, especially her, had expected to feel Seamus's absence so acutely, but it was the truth—she missed him terribly.

Evidently, he missed her too, if the rapidity with which he responded to her letters was any indication.

'_Dear Rachel,'_ said the note she received Tuesday morning.

'_I'm glad to hear—well, read—that you think the Test went well. I promise I won't mention it again, please don't hurt me._

_'Why on earth do you want to hear about _me_? I am the most boring man on the planet. You, however, I find extremely interesting. (What does that say about my standards? I don't know. Anyway.) No, life here is very boring. I wish you had come along, it would be so much fun! My mam has me doing chores just like usual, only now it's cold and snowy and not all that exciting by myself. Oh, well—at least no Umbridge, eh?_

_'For Christmas, my mam just wants a quiet day at home with the family. Francis won't be there, though; he's got a new girlfriend, but she doesn't want to be a part of the Finnigan clan, she told him. I'll have you know that I could never date, much less marry, a woman that didn't like my family._

_'Well, that's about all that's new on the eastern front. My parents say hello back, and my mam tells me to add that she knows you did well on the test. (Sorry.)_

_'I look forward to seeing you even more, trust me. Only three more weeks!_

_'Yours always,_

_'Seamus._

_'PS: Is it terrible that I've never actually read a book on American history? I just realized that the other day.'_

"You've got to stop mooning," Katelyn said matter-of-factly as Rachel read the letter, beaming. "Pass the jam."

Rachel plunked the jar in front of her. "Easy for you to say!"

"Are you _still_ going on about that?" Dean groaned. "Just tell him how you feel, for pity's sake!"

Folding up the letter and slipping it into her pocket, Rachel gave him a bitter look. "You have _no_ idea—"

"I told Hannah!" Dean cut in loudly. "Didn't I? I told her how I felt…yeah, it was hard, yeah it hurt, but look at us now!"

Hannah beamed and squeezed his hand.

Dean's serious face softened in a smile for a moment before going frowny again. "What I mean to say is, if Seamus likes you back, and even if he doesn't, either way you're being unfair. How's he supposed to know you like him if you don't _tell_ him? If he likes you back, you'll make him happy. If he doesn't, then at least you've been honest to him. And he'll appreciate it."

Dean fell silent. There was a momentary pause as the Funny Farm struggled to comprehend the fact that Dean had said so much at one time, then Katelyn started clapping slowly. "Good advice," Hannah said approvingly.

Quietly, Rachel got up from the table and left the Great Hall.

"Do you think she's going to do it?" Tanya asked.

Everyone shrugged. "As long as no one forgets our bets," Katelyn said hawkishly.

"Of course not," said Dean. "I'm going to win."

"We'll see about that," Hannah said.

* * *

_'Dear Seamus,_

_'Have you ever kept a secret from someone so long it's almost become a part of you? When everyone you know is telling you to spill the beans, and you're sick of lying, but the idea of letting the secret out is terrifying? On that note, if you were the person the secret was about, would you want to know? (Hypothetically speaking, of course.)_

_'Anyway. What a way to start a letter! Let's talk about happier things. Like he fact that it snowed last night! It's quite a lot of snow, too—almost like being home. I hope we'll go out to play in it today. Should be fun! You said there was snow in Ireland? How much?_

_'I got a letter from the Academy today, saying they had received my exam and are considering my application. I'll find out for sure Christmas Eve._

_'Speaking of Christmas, yours sounds absolutely heavenly. Who needs Francis and his girlfriend? Your family can do so much better than that. You have my permission to dislike her._

_'Well, I'd better go—it's getting cold here in the Owlery. Give my best to your parents and tell them thanks for the help (they'll know exactly what I'm talking about)._

_'Only two more weeks and four days!_

_'Miss you._

_'Rachel.'

* * *

_

Seamus's next letter found the girls far on the opposite shore of the Great Lake. It was absolutely freezing out, but it was the only place they could practice moving in their new Animagus forms without fear of being seen. Deep hoof prints marred the icy mud that covered the ground, and Tanya's pristine white coat was mottled with splotches and marks from the multiple times she had fallen while attempting to gallop. Katelyn and Hannah were having a better time of it, as they were closer to the ground. Rachel, however, hadn't done much more than stretch out her wings and waddle around on a rock.

"You should try to fly again," Katelyn said, coming out of her lion form.

Hawk-Rachel eyed her and chirruped low in her throat.

"Oh, go on," Hannah urged, also turning human again. "What if Katelyn and I stay underneath, so we can catch you if you fall?"

"We'll do what?" Katelyn said quickly, but Hannah shushed her.

Reluctantly, Rachel opened her wings and started flapping them.

"That's it," Hannah said, "nice and easy. Now you've got to jump up a little—there we go!"

Somehow, Rachel had caught a draft of air in her wings, and she literally flew off her rocky perch into the air, hovering a few feet above Katelyn's head.

"Good job!" cried Hannah as Rachel flapped a few more times and landed rather clumsily back on the rock. As Hannah and Katelyn applauded, she shifted back to her human form, looking exhausted but pleased.

"That's a lot harder than it seems," she panted.

"I imagine. But you did great!"

"Aw, thanks!"

There was the telltale sound of clomping hooves behind them, and then Tanya's voice. "Hey, look! Here comes an owl!"

They watched expectantly as Romulus, Rachel's owl, made a spectacular landing on a branch next to Rachel and held his leg out for her to take the letter.

"Good boy," Rachel crooned, letting him hop up to her shoulder as she opened the letter. A moment later, she brightened, and the other girls knew it was from Seamus.

"Let me see," Katelyn said, reaching for the paper.

Rachel pulled it out of reach. "No way!" And she retreated to her rock to read the letter. As soon as she was done, though, Katelyn snatched it from her hands and began to read it aloud.

"'_Dear Rachel,_

_"'Yes. I know exactly what you mean. And, to be honest, sometimes I feel the same way. So answering your question is a catch-22—yes, if someone kept that kind of secret from me, I would want to know. Right away. But then, that would make me a hypocrite. What would _you_ want? I think you should probably do what you would want to have done to you. But Rachel, I hope that—I mean, I know that—you trust me enough to tell me if something's going on. If someone is bothering you, give me his name and I swear to heaven he'll regret having messed with you._

_"'But yes, to happier things! Huzzah for snow! I expect you all to make full use of it. Make sure to get Snape with an iceball for me, won't you? Or Umbridge—even better. Yes. Perfect._

_"'No, we haven't got much snow here anymore—it rained last night and melted most of it away._

_"'Re: your exam. I want to know the minute you get the results back so we can celebrate here. My parents are very anxious to know how you do, even though they keep saying "_When_ Rachel gets into EA." And, of course, I'm even more anxious to know. You'd make a smashing professor, Su, and I really want you to get in, even though it means you'll have far more freedom after Hogwarts for three years while the rest of us join the ranks of the Ministry. Lucky._

_"'Well, with your permission, my good lady, I shall gladly dislike Maeve. And not because she's a Muggle. No, she's just…well, I guess it's because she's the opposite of you, and I've become quite used to you. Oh, bother. _

_"'Anyway, I'll stop dragging on. My mam says that you're welcome, and that you're such a thoughtful young woman. (Am I not allowed to know what's going on?)_

_"'Just two weeks and two days!_

_"'Missing you _tons,

_"'Seamus._

_"'PS: Katelyn, Hannah, and Tanya are persistent little buggers, aren't they? Tell them to go away.'"_

"Hey!" Katelyn said, looking mildly affronted. "Now we know that you two talk trash about us behind our backs!"

"You wish," Rachel answered, taking the letter back, rather pink in the face.

Hannah sighed. "You've almost told him already, Sushi. Just tell him you're head over heels for him."

"Go away," Rachel retorted with a twinkle in her eye. She gathered up her things. "I'm going back to the Tower. I'm tired of you three trying to get me to do something I really don't want to."

"You _do_ want to tell him!" Katelyn yelled after Rachel's retreating back, then sagged back with a sigh.

"This has gotten ridiculous," said Hannah. "You heard Seamus's letter—cut out some of the fluff and it's almost a love-letter. Oh, I _wish_ you would just let us tell them how the other feels, Katelyn!"

Katelyn shook her head. "No, no, you can't force the bud."

"It's not a bud anymore," Hannah groaned. "We've got two people who are made for each other and can't imagine their lives without the other, and the only reason they're not together is because they're afraid of splitting up the Funny Farm. If one of them doesn't come clean by Christmas, I'm going to do something about it."

"You wouldn't!" Katelyn gasped.

"I'm on Hannah's side," Tanya piped up.

Hannah nodded firmly, and, as Katelyn was outnumbered, that was that.


	30. Operation Greenhouse

**Chapter Thirty:**

**Operation Greenhouse**

'_Dear Seamus,_

_'You're the best advice-giver I know. I wish you were here so I could tell you in person how much better I feel. And thank you for not prying into the matter—it's nothing dangerous or illegal or really all that important, but it's still…well, it's a bit of a girl thing. (No. I'm not pregnant.) I do trust you, Seamus. You're my best friend and I'd trust you with my life. (Well…) And don't worry, no one's bothering me._

_'Ugh. I miss you. We're all sitting around the fire in the common room, chatting or reading (Tanya is playing Exploding Snap by herself), and it's just not the same without you on the couch._

_'I snowballed Umbridge's office window today, but I don't think she was there at the moment. Oh, well—I hope I startled those stupid kittens, anyway._

_'Of course I'll tell you the moment I found out about the exam! Who do you take me for? Tell me what your reactions are—I want to know, haha!_

_'Ooh, Maeve—hateful name already. I'll come beat her up and tell her to go away and find a family that's at her level because clearly the Finnigans are too good for her! There. I'll put away the soapbox._

_'When are you coming back again?_

_'Two weeks solid! Almost there! And Christmas is only in a few days…!_

_'Missing you even more,_

_'Rachel.'

* * *

_

One night just a few days away from Christmas Eve, the Funny Farm minus Rachel, who was meeting with McGonagall to discuss the Academy exam, was sitting quietly in the common room. They were just minding their own business when there came a tap at one of the windows, and Dean went over to drag a sadly bedraggled owl into the room.

"That's Romulus," said Hannah. "Here, bring him over to the fire."

Romulus, Rachel's owl, stuck his leg out gratefully for the letter to be taken off, then hooted softly and began preening himself as soon as Dean set him on the back of the chair near the warm fire.

"Addressed to Rachel, all right," Dean said, glancing at the envelope. "The seal's come undone—got wet. And it's from Seamus, _of course_."

"Put it on the table to dry," Tanya suggested.

Dean did so, then stretched and yawned. "I think I'm going to turn in…I'm tired tonight."

"Sleep well," Hannah said sweetly, lifting her face for the kiss Dean offered.

Katelyn gagged a bit.

"Oh, hush, you," Hannah said lightly, yawning. "Just because you…Tanya?"

Tanya was staring at the letter on the table. Now that it was starting to dry, the edges were curling up, and the unsealed ends were coming open just enough to show a tantalizing bit of handwriting. As they looked, Hannah and Tanya were struck with the same sudden urge to lean a bit closer and see if they could read what it said.

"We really shouldn't," Hannah said after a moment. "It's not right."

"Plus, Rachel will be back soon," Tanya said nervously.

Katelyn continued to stare. "They would never know…"

"Katelyn…"

Katelyn reached out and opened the letter. "You two had nothing to do with this. You just happened to overhear me reading it aloud."

Neither Tanya nor Hannah had any argument against this, so Katelyn began.

"'_Dear, dear Rachel,_

_"'How I wish I could be there, sitting with you on the couch. I can imagine you sitting curled up next to me with a book about…well, whatever book happened to catch your fancy the last time you were in the library. I'm sitting there with my own book going unread because you keep reading me snippets from yours and it's so much more interesting than mine. Everyone else is off doing homework or playing games._

_"'Ha! I'd tell you I miss you but that's nothing new—I'd probably bore you to death. But right before I got your last letter (made my day, as usual), I was helping my da on the farm, and one of the sheep somehow got knocked over and just laid there in the mud, too startled to move. It reminded me of when you fell off Oberon this summer and bruised your cheek. It made me laugh, but then all sorts of random memories of us started popping up and…well, you can imagine what an effective farmhand a daydreamer makes. My da sent me inside after a while._

_"'Anyway. That all goes to show that I really, really hate not being there with you. Sometimes I feel like a puzzle piece. Even if the two of us don't always get along, our edges fit together pretty darn close._

_"'…On second thought, that analogy sounds really dirty now that I read it again. Forget I ever wrote it._

_"'Try this one. Your friendship feels to me like when you've been out in the rain, and it's bone-chilling cold, but then you get inside and put on a set of soft, comfy dry clothes and curl up in front of the fire._

_"'Nope, still sounds dirty to me. I promise, I don't make a practice of storing my mind in the gutter._

_"'Well, at risk of writing your eyes out (get it? Talking your ear off? Yeah, never mind.), I'll end here._

_"'Su, I miss you like I'd miss my right hand, and I can't wait to see you again. Happy Christmas!_

_"'Yours always,_

_"'Seamus._

_"'PS: I still feel really bad about what I did before I left…I know you said it's okay, but…do you forgive me? I will _never_ do _anything_ like that again. Never.'_

"And it ends there." Katelyn looked up from the parchment, looking a little dazed.

Hannah and Tanya were quiet for a few minutes. Finally, Hannah said, "That wasn't 'almost' a love letter. That _was_ a love letter."

Tanya nodded fervently.

"I wish someone would write _me_ a letter like that," Katelyn said, sounding a bit wistful.

Her daydreams were interrupted by a slight commotion. Hannah had procured a piece of parchment from somewhere and was sitting down at the table with a quill.

"What are you doing?" Tanya asked, puzzled.

"Time for Operation Greenhouse," Hannah said firmly. "We're forcing this bud."

Katelyn and Tanya exchanged bewildered looks as Hannah scribbled furiously. A few minutes later, she set the quill down, picked up the parchment, and read:

"'_Dear Seamus,_

_"'Hi! How's break? Good!_

_"'This letter is of fairly high importance. _Ernie Macmillan _did the unspeakable today—he asked Rachel out!'"_

"He did?" Tanya asked with befuddlement.

"No, dear, just listen."

"'_Yes, you read that right. He asked her on a date. Now, the good news is that she hasn't said yes—yet. She told him she'd think about it and tell him on Christmas Eve._

_"'So. Look here, lover-boy. Now's your chance. You've got to tell her how you feel, or she'll date Ernie. _Ernie! _Of all people! Write her a letter right now!_

_"'We tell you this in confidence because you're our friend. Good luck, cowboy! Now stop reading this letter and start writing the best love-letter in history._

_"'Say hi to your parents for us!_

_"'Hannah.'_

"Sign here, you two," Hannah said, holding out the quill.

Tanya grabbed it and wrote her name next to Hannah's. Katelyn was more reluctant, but at last she relented and scribbled down her name. "This better work!"

"I have a feeling it will," Hannah said smugly, sealing the envelope and tying it to Romulus's leg. "Good owl. Here's a treat."

Tanya opened the window and away flew Romulus, westward toward Ireland. The girls watched him for a moment before coming back into the room.

Hannah was latching the window when the portrait hole swung open and Rachel walked in. "What are you up to?" she asked curiously.

Tanya blanched, but Katelyn said lazily, "Oh, you just missed Romulus—another letter. Hannah let him go back to the Owlery…here's the letter. By the way, the seal came undone en route."

Rachel took the letter without question and immediately began reading it. As her eyes moved farther down the page, she grew steadily pinker in the face.

"Good news?" Katelyn asked casually when Rachel looked up, her eyes shining.

"I—I don't know. Maybe?"

"Knowing Seamus, it probably is," Hannah said with a perfectly timed yawn. "Well, I'm off to bed. 'Night!"

And the three Funny Farmers went upstairs, leaving Rachel behind, blissful in her ignorance.


	31. The Finnigan Family

**Chapter Thirty-One:**

**The Finnigan Family**

A batch of cookies had just gone into the over, and Celestina Warbeck's sultry voice was playing on a wireless in the corner as the four Finnigans noisily trimmed their tree. It was Christmas Eve morning, and, though it was sunny, the forecast for the afternoon was heavy snow.

"Seamus," Mrs. Finnigan sing-songed, bumping the kitchen door open with her hip, "come help me put the garlands up in here—I need some Muggle elbow grease."

Seamus handed the ornament he was holding to his da and followed his mother into the kitchen.

"It's so good to have you home," Mrs. Finnigan commented, pulling greenery from the tip of her wand. "I need your height!"

Seamus grinned and climbed up on the counter to hold the garland down while his mam strung it across the cabinetry. "Yeah, it's nice to be home."

Mrs. Finnigan eyed him beadily. "I know how it would be better. I wish you had been able to convince Rachel to come…"

He pretended not to have heard.

She laughed to herself, then said, "Oh, Owl Post! I'll get it."

But before she could make her way over to the window, Seamus leapt off the counter and threw the sash open, pulling Romulus into the kitchen. "Letter from her," he said triumphantly, setting the exhausted owl in the sink to preen his feathers. Then Seamus looked again at the envelope, and the brightness in his face dimmed. "Oh. It's not her handwriting."

"But it's her owl," Mrs. Finnigan mused, coming over with a treat and a bowl of water for the poor animal.

Seamus scratched Romulus under the beak and pulled out a chair at the table. "I wonder who sent it."

"Well, read it, go on!"

He slit the seal, sat back, and began to do so. It was not a long letter, but he was white as a sheet by the time he had finished.

"Well, who's it from?" Mrs. Finnigan asked cheerily from the sink.

"Hannah, Katelyn, and Tanya," he forced out.

She turned, frowning at his tone of voice. "Why, is everything all right?"

"Top-notch," Seamus growled. "Just fantastic." And with that, he grabbed his coat and stalked outside, slamming the door behind him.

When he returned about an hour later, splattered with mud from the brief but much-needed horseback ride and his mind made up, he found his parents waiting in the kitchen, Hannah's letter in Mrs. Finnigan's hand.

"I've got to go back," he said at last.

"Seamus, dear, it's Christmas Eve—"

"Mam, you don't understand," Seamus said loudly. "I've…I've _got_ to go back to Hogwarts. Today. I've got to talk to Rachel. I've got to tell her…"

"Can't you just write her a letter?" Mr. Finnigan asked.

Seamus looked infinitely frustrated, but Mrs. Finnigan put a hand on her husband's arm. "Love, you can't do something like this with the written word. It has to be face to face."

"That's why I would like to go back to Hogwarts early," Seamus repeated, trying desperately to be respectful but firm at the same time.

"You really like her, don't you?" Mr. Finnigan said at last.

Seamus nodded silently.

"I wish," Mrs. Finnigan said softly, "that you would at least spend Christmas Eve with us."

"I do, too," Seamus said earnestly, "but Mam…Da…I really, _really_ like Rachel…I think I could…well, I think that I could fall in love with her someday."

"I think you've already started," Mrs. Finnigan whispered.

He didn't say anything.

At last, Mr. Finnigan stirred. "Well, it seems to me that there is only one thing to do at this point. Seamus, go pack your things."

Seamus looked with surprise at his parents. "Really?"

"On one condition," Mrs. Finnigan said loudly as he went to leave the room. "…Rachel likes tulips, I hear."

A huge grin spread across Seamus's face, and he dashed upstairs to begin packing. "I hope we're doing the right thing," Mr. Finnigan sighed.

Mrs. Finnigan smiled over at him. "Well, I can think of two people who did the same thing at the same age…I hear it worked out fair enough for them." And she winked.


	32. Yule

**Chapter Thirty-Two:**

**Yule**

Even though it was Christmas Eve Day, the Gryffindor Common Room was quiet. House elves had put up some decorations overnight, but the Tower was largely empty, so there was little Christmas spirit. A particularly large lunch had let everyone feeling full and a bit sleepy, so they were stretched out in the room, playing lazy games or reading books.

At last, someone stirred. "I think we should have a party," said Cooper Teebowl, a thin-faced seventh year.

Everyone looked at him rather skeptically.

"What?" he said. "We're all just sitting around anyway. Let's have a Christmas party! I know someone who knows someone who can get us food, and we can pinch Filch's old Victrola, and I'm sure people here know spells for making mistletoe and snow and all sorts of things. Come on—it could be fun!"

People were starting to get a little excited, and a fourth year jumped up and exclaimed, "Let's do it!"

"I'm going to get all dressed up," said Lavender.

Everyone knew that she was one of the prettiest girls in Gryffindor, and so her proclamation sparked a mass exodus of girls to dormitories, because they were dead set on not allowing Lavender to be the only girl under the mistletoe that night.

"Come on, Rachel," said Tanya, tugging at the taller girl's arm. "It'll be fun!"

Rachel was reluctant to put down her book, '_A History of the Irish People_.' "Do I have to?"

"Yes," Katelyn said firmly.

And so the girls trooped up to the dorm with Lavender and Parvati, who were already donning festive tops. "Everyone knows men prefer women in red," Lavender said with a laugh, turning in front of the mirror.

"But I like green," Rachel said lightly, pulling on a green sweater.

"Suit yourself," Parvati said with a shrug.

"I'll wear green, too," Tanya told Rachel sweetly.

"You guys look nice in green," Hannah said.

"Thanks!" Tanya chirruped.

Parvati was pouting in the mirror. "How should I do my hair? I wish it was curly like yours, Rachel."

"My hair's not curly," Rachel said. "It's just frizzy. It's always been."

"When's the last time you looked in the mirror?" Lavender said with an exaggerated eye-roll.

Rachel went up to Parvati and looked at herself in the mirror—really looked. Sure enough, thick, gentle curls fell around her shoulders where there had once been an unmanageable mane. "How did that happen?" she marveled.

Katelyn glanced at her. "It started getting that way after holiday started. I thought you meant to do it."

"No," Rachel said, looking at the slightly unkempt ringlets with a puzzled expression. "I mean, all I did was stop brushing my hair after showering."

"Your hair was curly when we were little," Hannah mused, "I wonder if it's a hormonal thing."

"Well, whatever," Lavender broke in, running her fingers through Rachel's hair. "Never brush your curls. Comb them with your fingers. See? Look. Much nicer."

The girls finished with their hair and, slapping some makeup on, went down to rejoin the party. People had already begun supplementing the house elves' decorations; in the corner, Dean and Neville were hanging a quickly drawn caricature of Umbridge wearing a nightcap; the caption read "_Dolores Scrooge_." A few first years were painstakingly constructing paper snowflakes and charming them to float lazily by each window.

"I'm going to help them!" Tanya squealed, and ran off with her wand at the ready.

"Watch this," Rachel said to Hannah in a low voice. "I read this spell in an old spellbook while I was studying…_niveanus tepidarum perpetuaris_."

Nothing happened at first, but then something caught Hannah's eye. Looking up, she grinned. "Indoor snow! Brilliant!"

"Not just any snow," Rachel said proudly. Watch the flakes."

Hannah did so. "They never hit the ground!"

"It's warm indoor snow," Rachel said. "It evaporates completely before it can accumulate anywhere. No water, no cold, no problem."

"Cool!" Hannah said to general agreement.

Over on the other side of the room, Tanya stood up and began twirling about in the falling snow, her expression one of pure joy.

"My work here is done," said Rachel.

"Mail call!" exclaimed one of the first years suddenly, standing up to let the pitiful post office owl in. "Letter for…Rachel Hekman."

Looking mildly surprised, Rachel went over and took the letter with a thank-you. "That's weird," she said to the Funny Farm. "I haven't responded to Seamus's last letter yet." So saying, she opened the envelope, read the brief note, checked her watch, and let out a shriek that startled the whole room.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Katelyn asked.

"'_Dear Rachel_,'" Rachel read aloud:

"'_Am returning early. Nothing's wrong, just miss everyone. Will be arriving around 3:00._

_"'See you soon!_

_"'Seamus.'_

"It's 2:55!" Rachel concluded breathlessly. "He'll be here any moment!"

Everyone just looked at her until she said, "Well, I'm going down to greet him. See you later." And she practically ran from the common room.

Hannah, Tanya, and Katelyn looked at each other. "See?" Hannah said triumphantly. "Told you Operation Greenhouse would work.'

"I see this ending very badly," Katelyn muttered.

"'Operation Greenhouse'?" asked Dean, coming over. "What's that?"

"We told Seamus that Ernie asked Rachel out and that he needed to come and tell her how he feels," Tanya said in one breath.

"Tanya!" Katelyn cried.

"You did _what_?" Dean yelped. "Oh, Merlin. This could be bad."

"Or good," Hannah said defensively.

Dean looked grim. "We'd better go down there and make sure this plan happens the way we want it to. What if they run into Ernie? Awkward…"

"You're right," said Hannah, suddenly sounding nervous. "Let's go."

Meanwhile, Rachel, once again blissful in her ignorance, was trotting through Hogwarts Castle towards the Entrance Hall, thinking only of how happy she was to see her leprechaun again.

Even more meanwhile, Seamus was trudging through shin-deep snow with his luggage hovering in front of him, thinking only of how nervous and upset and confused and excited and hopeful he was. But, he figured, he would have the whole walk back to Gryffindor Tower to calm himself down.

Of course, he was not counting on one of the big castle doors swinging open and Rachel nearly flying down the stone steps to meet him. "Seamus!" she cried. "You're back!"

Without realizing it, he dropped his wand in the snow and scooped her up into a big bear hug, grinning so hard his face hurt. "I missed you," she said, laughing into his shoulder.

"I missed you too!" But he set her down again. "Please, Rachel, tell me you said no."

She blinked. "Er…what? What does that have to do with missing me? Said no to what?"

"To Ernie," he pressed.

"_What_?"

He growled in frustration. "Are you going to go out with Ernie?"

The look on her face would have been comical if Seamus hadn't been so worried. "_What_? No! I would _never_ go out with Ernie!"

All the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding came out in a sigh of relief. "Oh. Good. _Good_."

She looked at him. "Where on earth did you get that idea, Seamus?"

He could grin in earnest, this time. "It's not important. But…well, I've been meaning to tell you someth—"

"Hey, the prodigal son returns!"

The voice was Katelyn's. "Hi, guys," Seamus said, trying his hardest to look pleased to see them when he was actually fairly annoyed at being interrupted.

"Yay!" Tanya squealed, jumping down the last few steps to hug Seamus's stomach. "We're all together again."

"What brought you back so soon?" Hannah asked with an admirable lack of smugness.

"I was bored at home," Seamus said truthfully, "and I missed everyone. And besides," he added to Rachel, "your exam results come in today and I wanted to be there when you found out."

She turned pink with pleasure.

"Whatever," Dean said. "We're glad you're back. We're having a part in the common room!"

"Perfect timing," Katelyn said with a wink. "Let's go back!"

"_Accio Seamus's wand_," Rachel said with a wave of her own, and handed it back to him with a smile.

"_Locomotor trunk_," he said to his luggage, and together the Funny Farm headed into the castle.

"I'm so glad you're back in time for Christmas," Rachel said to him, letting the others get a little ahead.

"Me too," Seamus answered. "It's just…not the same without you, is it?"

Rachel responded by slipping her hand into his to give it an affectionate squeeze, but he was so surprised by the touch that he tripped up the stairs and barely caught himself.

"What are you two up to down there?" Katelyn called as Rachel helped Seamus up.

"Nothing," she answered, trying to hold back a giggle.

By the time the Funny Farm got back to the Gryffindor Christmas party, Cooper Teebowl's friend's friend had followed through on their promises: there was butterbeer, Honeyduke's candies, and Filch's Victrola was playing crackly carols from a corner.

"Cool snow," Seamus said, watching it with wide eyes.

"That was mine," Rachel said proudly, and walked away with a spring in her step.

Seamus darted upstairs to return his luggage, and when he returned, Rachel was focused intently on a bottle cap she held in the palm of her hand. As he watched, she held her wand up to it and muttered slowly under her breath until the cap shuddered and began to change. Before long, the cap was gone and there remained in her palm a sprig of greenery.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Mistletoe," she answered lightly. "It's not perfect—you can still see the butterbeer brand name on the leaves. But it'll serve."

Seamus felt himself grow warm. What a perfect opportunity—she was holding the sprig above her head, inspecting it in the light—but not at all what he had planned. So, as hard as it was, he forced himself to let the opportunity pass.

With a sigh, Rachel tapped the mistletoe with her wand, and it drifted away towards the biggest crowd of people.

"It looks really nice in here," Seamus commented. "Almost like home."

"Yeah, I think so, too," Rachel replied, bumping his shoulder with hers.

It was at that moment that he noticed her curls. "You…your…"

She looked up at him.

"You have curls," he finished lamely.

"That was my reaction, too. Apparently, my hair's been like this for ages, but I always brushed it all out."

"I like it curly," he said, looking straight ahead at the Victrola. "It's pretty."

After a few minutes of silence, Rachel said, "I do miss having a Christmas tree."

Her words startled Seamus. _That_ he could do something about. Wordlessly, he went over to the corner near the fireplace and knelt down with his wand out. At first, no one but Rachel noticed him. But gradually, people began to catch on: slowly, with creaking and groaning, a richly needled evergreen was growing in the corner under the guidance of Seamus's wand. It grew taller and broader until, at last, it nearly touched the ceiling and was too big to put one's arms around.

Seamus staggered back, red and sweating from the exertion of the magic. "Is that okay?" he asked Rachel.

Her eyes sparkled as people clapped appreciatively. "It's perfect."

There was a general stampede as everyone rushed forward to inspect the new addition to the common room. "I know," cried Cooper, "let's decorate it!"

Soon, many Gryffindors were working studiously on making ornaments for the beautiful fir. Some second years were cutting parchment into thin strips and changing its color to silver for tinsel; a third year brought his chocolate frog card collection down to be hung as homage to Dumbledore; a few seventh years were Transfiguring wads of paper into gleaming gold ornaments.

Once he was satisfied that everyone was busy, Seamus took Rachel by the arm and drew her aside. "Look," he said, "I have some really important things to tell you. Meet me on the Astronomy Tower in ten minutes?"

She nodded wordlessly, and he darted up to the boys' dorm.

"What was that about?" Katelyn asked, coming over with Hannah.

"I'm not sure," Rachel said. "He said he wants me to meet him on the Astronomy Tower."

"You can use my cloak," Katelyn said. "Here. What are you waiting for?"

"I just…" Rachel said, donning Katelyn's cloak. "I don't know what to expect."

"That's what makes it exciting," Hannah teased. "Now go!"


	33. Journeys End in Lovers Meeting

**Chapter Thirty-Three:**

**Journeys End in Lovers Meeting**

Seamus stood under the trapdoor to the Observatory on the very top of the Astronomy Tower. He had spent most of that morning memorizing a script that outlined everything he'd been wanting to say to her for the past three years, but there was still the issue of actually dredging up the courage to recite it.

"_Producto tulipa_," he murmured, and the tip of his wand exploded in a lush bouquet of red and yellow tulips. (He was really getting rather good at inventing spells.) Tucking away his wand and hiding the flowers behind his back, he pushed the trapdoor open and clambered out onto the observatory.

Rachel greeted him with a smile. The sun was beginning to set behind the thick cloud cover, and fluffy flakes of snow—real, cold snow—were falling from the sky. "I know you want to talk," she said before he had a chance to open his mouth, "but I just really, really wanted to show you the book I'm reading. I wrote to Ireland for it." And she held out the old history book. "I thought—I mean, I don't know, I thought we could talk about Ireland more if I knew a bit more about it."

Seamus felt warm all over despite the cold air. "That's fantastic, Su! You read my mind. Ever heard of '_A History of the American People_' by Paul Johnson?"

"It's one of my favorite books, yeah!"

"Yeah, well, I'm reading that right now. I thought the same thing about you."

Rachel felt the same warmth all the way down to her toes. "Great minds," she said softly. "But. I assume you didn't bring me all the way up here just to discuss history books."

Seamus let out a slightly nervous-sounding laugh. "No. No, I didn't. Well. Here goes."

He was in the middle of taking a deep breath when suddenly, unhappily, and improbably, a tawny owl landed on one of the telescopes and hooted impatiently.

"Hold that thought," Rachel said apologetically, going over to take the letter.

"It looks like a Ministry owl," he commented.

Rachel looked at the envelope as the owl flew away. "Oh, Merlin—Seamus, it's my exam results!"

"Open it, woman!" he exclaimed with a grin.

She laughed breathlessly and tore the envelope open. "It says…oh! Oh! Oh, Seamus! I passed with flying colors!"

Seamus gave a loud whoop and was about to thrust the tulips at her in celebration when she suddenly went pale.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

Rachel let out a raspy, terrible giggle. "Oh. Oh, Merlin. Hah…hahah. I've been rejected by the Academy."

There was silence. Seamus threw the flowers over the wall.

"How?" he dared to ask at last.

Rachel's eyes were glued to the paper in her hands. "'_Dear Miss Hekman: We are pleased to announce that you passed the acceptance exam to the Educator's Academy with a correct answer percentage of 97%. This score is more than sufficient to gain you acceptance to the Academy. In addition, the recommendations you received from Professors Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, and Headmaster Albus Dumbledore were complimentary and described you as worthy of a place in this institution. However, school policy is to accept students who receive _only positive_ recommendations from every solicited professor. Our offices recently received from Professor Dolores Umbridge a highly negative account of your conduct as a student. As such, we regret to inform you that you will not be offered a place in the Academy. As you know, all such decisions are final. We wish you luck in your future studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Sincerely, Ocula Twain, Chairwitch of the board of trustees of the Educator's Academy.'"_

Silence reigned again.

"This can't be true," Rachel said softly. "It just can't. Umbridge wrote that letter just to get back at me."

"That _bitch_," Seamus fumed.

She crumpled the parchment. "I don't believe that 'all such decisions are final.' I'm going to the library to find out what I can do."

Seamus knew better than to argue. Instead, he followed her loyally all the way to the "E" section of the library, where Madam Pince was still at her post despite it being Christmas Eve. After a few moments of browsing, she pulled out a dusty old book entitled '_The Educator's Academy: A History' _by none other than Bathilda Bagshot.

"I'll look it up," she said, looking at the index. "Ah, here we go: 'Admissions, page 127.' Blah, blah, blah…_'The Academy is famously selective in admitting new students. Due to records magically maintained to avoid corruption (see 'Scandal of 1482', page 301), admission to the Academy is nonnegotiable. The last known case of a Wizarding student attempting to appeal his rejection was in 1812, a contest whose shockwaves sparked a Muggle war and resulted in the student being sentenced to three years in Azkaban for inciting dissention and threatening order_.'"

Rachel closed the book slowly. "So. I guess there's no hope."

Seamus had to agree. "What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. I don't know, Seamus." Tears were welling up in her eyes, try as she might to hide them. "I was _planning_ to go to EA. I—I'm not good at anything else—" She broke off and bit back a sob.

"That's not true!" Seamus exclaimed. "You're good at lots of stuff! Transfiguration, for one."

She looked so pitiful, standing there with tears pouring down her face. Seamus was spitting mad at Umbridge, but he could hardly let Rachel stand there like that, so he took the book away and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. She reached her arms up and tucked them up against his chest and sniffled quietly—the sound was somehow more heartbreaking than if she had raged and screamed.

At last, she broke away with a hiccup. "Merlin. I need to get a grip. I'm so sorry, Seamus, for being like this—"

"Don't apologize," he said fiercely. "I—I—I hate Umbridge, and I'm going to tell Dumbledore and get her sacked. That toad-face."

Rachel had to smile. "Thanks, Seamus," she said softly, squeezing his hand. "You've been wonderful. I'm sorry you had to come back to this, but I'm glad you're back, nevertheless."

He brushed her knuckles with the side of his thumb. "So am I."

She opened her mouth to speak, but gasped a little instead. "Oh, Seamus, I'm so sorry! You brought me to the Astronomy Tower for a reason, but I completely forgot about it. Tell me now, and I promise I won't let anything else interrupt you this time."

Seamus gave another slightly nervous laugh. "No, no, now's hardly the right time. Maybe tomorrow."

"Now's a fine time, Seamus. Go on."

He tried to resist, but she was dead-set on hearing his speak, so he guided her over to the window seat nearby. "You'll probably want to sit down."

"Aren't you going to sit with me?"

"I don't think I can keep still that long," Seamus said, only half-teasing.

She smiled at him, but she clearly began to realize that this confession, or whatever it was, was a lot more serious than she had previously thought.

He paced back and forth in front of her like a caged animal for a few moments, trying to get his thoughts together. Finally: "Rachel, we're friends, right? Really, really good friends?"

"Seamus, of _course_!"

"Then do you promise to trust that everything I say is completely, 100% true?"

"Yes, always!"

He nodded. "Okay, then. Here goes." A deep breath. "We've been friends for five years, right? That's a long time. I've really liked being your friend, and I really, really hope we're good friends until we get old. And even longer, if you like. But…what if I told you that I really, really value your friendship?"

"I suppose I would be flattered," Rachel answered, perplexed.

Seamus looked at her, and as soon as he did so, he forgot every word of his carefully written, diplomatically worded speech. He started to panic a little.

"You can tell me, Seamus," Rachel soothed.

He took another deep breath and decided that maybe this wasn't a bad thing after all. He would wing it.

"Here's the thing," he said at last. "My affection for you runs quite a lot deeper than just friendship, even though that fondness goes pretty deep, too. I"—he had to take another deep breath—"I really, really, _really_ like you, okay? I've got this weird paradox of you're my best friend and I would never give that up for the whole world but also I've never felt this strongly about a girl in my life and I would…I would do anything for you.

"You've got to understand, Rachel. Please don't be mad. Don't think I'm only friends with you because I like you, or that I only like you for lack of anything better, or something like that. Trust me—I fought my feelings from the very beginning, because I knew we couldn't be friends if it got out and you didn't want to date. But I—no matter how hard I've tried to stop it, my feelings for just get stronger and stronger. That's why I came back early. That's why I get so mad at Ernie and—and at Dean. Remember in third year when he asked you out? He did that because he was angry with me and I'd been planning to ask you out that day. Oh, and second year—that stupid Lockhart's Valentine's Day tricks. I'm the one that sent you the singing Valentine. I don't know why I did it. I just…I don't know."

He took a breath. "I'm telling you this because you have a right to know, not because I want to burden you or anything. So, if you want me to back off, or leave you alone for a few months or"—he swallowed—"to leave you alone for good, just say the word."

A ringing silence followed. Now that all his pent-up anxiety had been dealt with, Seamus felt suddenly drained and exhausted, and he inspected the bookshelves above Rachel's head with rapt attention.

Suddenly, Rachel laughed, and the next thing he knew, she was hugging him fiercely. _This could either be good or bad_, he thought in confusion.

She laughed again and skipped partway down the aisle as if her glee was uncontainable. "Oh, Seamus!" she cried, her eyes bright and cheeks red. "Seamus, _darling_ Seamus. I was so afraid to tell you. I didn't think you'd feel the same way about me. I thought I would scare you off—oh, Seamus, I've liked you since third year, at least! And not just any 'like'…oh, no. I fancied Cedric Diggory, yes, but I _adore_ you. That's why I got so upset at the Yule Ball, when you were with Lavender and not with me. Oh, Seamus, I don't want you to back off. No, no, no, not when I've wanted you to say those words for so long."

Seamus let out a laugh that was part exclamation. "I had—no idea, none at all…"

"Nor did I about you," Rachel teased. "I guess the girls didn't, either. They've been telling me to tell you for years, but…"

He frowned. "No, no, they know how I feel. They don't know how you do."

She eyed him. "Oh, no, they are well aware of how much I like you."

Then the realization dawned on them both. "Those double-crossing—" Rachel snarled. "They've been lying to the both of us for years!"

"I got a letter from them this morning," he said, "telling me Ernie Macmillan had asked you out. Is that true?"

Her jaw dropped open. "Not in the least! I haven't even seen him since I took the exam!"

Seamus balled his fists. "Someone's going to regret doing that," Seamus growled

Rachel eyed him. "Is that why you came back, though?"

"Maybe," he said cagily.

She laughed and slid down to the floor, her back pressed against the spines of old books. "This is so surreal. I can hardly believe that _you_ like _me_. _Me._ I'm just…Sushi."

He sat down next to her. "Well, I think you're just fantastic."

Blushing, she put her hand in his, and he threaded his fingers through hers. "I might get giggly from time to time," she admitted. "My internal computers are having a bit of trouble processing this all."

"_Your_ computers!" Seamus laughed. "Mine have overloaded."

She giggled, then looked rather embarrassed.

"How are we going to tell the others?" he mused. "The backstabbing liars that they are."

"Let's not tell hem, at least just yet," Rachel replied. "Let them squirm. They know something's up, but they won't be able to find out what."

"Brilliant."

Rachel put her head on Seamus's shoulder. "This is going to sound terrifically awkward," she said slowly, "but I've always liked touching you."

"Good," Seamus said with feeling, turning bright red.

"Yep, pretty much always."

It took him a moment, but then Seamus realized the full implication of her words. Slowly, he reached over with his free hand and brushed his knuckles against her cheek. "You know what?"

"What?" she said in a soft voice, shifting so she faced him more.

"I really missed you."

"Took you long enough to come back, then."

He squeezed her hand. "You want me to make some sort of smart-aleck response, don't you?"

"It would be ideal, yes."

So without further ado, he turned to her, brushed a soft curl off her face, and bent to kiss her.

But, of course, that would have been too easy. At that moment, Tanya came bounding into the aisle. "Hey, I found them! What were you guys doing?"

"Talking," Rachel said as they scrambled to their feet, beet red.

"'Bout what?" Katelyn asked, coming over.

"Her exam results," Seamus answered.

"I didn't get in."

Hannah gasped. "Why not?"

"Umbridge wrote an unsolicited negative recommendation," Rachel growled. "And there's nothing I can do about it. But I don't really want to think about that anymore. Why are you here?"

"It's dinner," Tanya announced.

"Oh, you can go ahead," Seamus assured them.

"No, you must be starving, with all that traveling you did…come on, we'll walk together."

Rachel and Seamus had no choice but to follow obediently. But when none of the others were watching, Seamus reached over and slipped his hand into Rachel's, and she smiled.


	34. Hang the Mistletoe

**Chapter Thirty-Four:**

**Hang the Mistletoe (and Watch Out for the Nargles)**

That night could have been like any other. The Christmas tree, having been decorated, stood silently and majestically in the corner of the common room, twinkling in the firelight as the Gryffindors lounged about with books or games. The high that had come with the Christmas party had dimmed a little, but the atmosphere in Gryffindor Tower was significantly happier.

"Look at them," Katelyn muttered to Hannah, pointing to where Seamus and Rachel were seated together on the couch, both with their respective history books balanced on their knees. They didn't look like they were reading much, but were whispering and laughing together; Rachel's eyes were bright and her cheeks pink, and Seamus was grinning broadly. "They're thick as thieves."

"Oh, let them be," Hannah replied, moving her rook. "Your move."

"But they know something we don't," Katelyn whined.

"Yes," Tanya chimed in, "but we know lots _they_ don't, too."

"You think that's an excuse?"

"Well, not really…"

"See?"

Hannah sighed. "Oh, please. If it's something we need to know (and I can't think of what wouldn't be), they'll tell us. Soon. They'd better, anyway."

Meanwhile, Rachel and Seamus _did_ know something the others didn't, and it was an overwhelmingly pleasant sensation. "Look at them," Seamus said in Rachel's ear. "We're driving them nuts."

"Katelyn's going to pop," Rachel laughed.

"I can't wait—it'll be great!"

Rachel ducked back down to her book. "I never knew how bad the Potato Famine really was. I mean, I knew it was bad, but…not _that_ bad."

"Everyone in my da's great-great grandfather's family died or emigrated, except for him," Seamus noted, leaning over to look at the page she was reading.

She gently pushed him away, simultaneously saying, "How sad!"

"My mam's ancestors had to bring themselves to the very brink of starvation just to stay alive," Seamus went on. "They were Wizarding, of course, so they could make as much food as they needed, but they couldn't possibly save the whole country, so they had to pretend to be without food to avoid getting attacked."

"Terrible!"

"It was bad. But we Irish are stubborn folk."

Rachel smiled and, forgetting herself for a moment, reached over and squeezed his hand.

"She touched him!" Katelyn hissed.

"Ssh!" Hannah said.

Dean stood up. "Well, it's getting late…And everyone know that the house elves only bring our presents after we're asleep!"

"You're right," Tanya said with a yawn. "Female Funny Farmers, to the dorm!"

Hannah and Katelyn stood up to join Tanya. "Come on, Sushi," Hannah said, stretching. "Bedtime!"

"Okay," Rachel said. "I'll be up in just a minute. I want to finish this chapter."

The girls nodded and went upstairs, as did Dean. The common room was now almost completely empty. Slowly, Seamus reached his arm up, stretched, and slipped it around Rachel's shoulders.

"You're subtle."

"And you like it."

"I object to that insinuation, Mr. Finnigan."

"Duly noted. Now, would you hold still? I'm trying to hug you."

"This is one long hug."

"And are you complaining?"

"…No."

"I didn't think so." And Seamus pulled her to his side, wrapping both arms around her.

"You're making it rather hard to read about the Potato Blight, you know," she scolded.

"Oh, is my arm in the way?"

"Not quite. It's hard to read something that's solemn and sober when you're making me feel so giddy!"

Seamus laughed out loud and took the book from her (making sure to mark her spot). As soon as her hands were free, Rachel extricated one of her arms from Seamus's embrace and wrapped it around his neck, blushingly but purposefully drawing him in for the long-awaited and much-deserved kiss.

Somewhere upstairs, though, a door slammed; Rachel jumped despite herself; and the moment was lost. It was probably for the best, though, because a moment later, Fred Weasley's hands came down on their shoulders. Seamus swore under his breath.

"It doesn't have a star on the top," he said.

"What?" Seamus said blankly.

Rachel drew back, red-faced, as Fred looked down at them with a knowing grin. "I said," the redhead repeated, "that your fancy Christmas tree doesn't have a star on the top."

"Is that my problem?" Seamus said.

"No, you're right," Rachel cut in, keen for Fred to leave. She got up and took her wand out; someone had made a small origami star and hung it from a bough, and she pointed her wand at it. "_Engorgio_."

It swelled to the size of two hands-breadths, and she waved her wand and sent it to the top of the tree.

"Looks much better," Fred said approvingly, and retreated with a wink.

"Sorry to change the status quo," Rachel said to Seamus, turning back to him sheepishly.

Seamus went over to her, putting his hands in his pockets and surveying the finished product. "No, actually, I think it looks quite nice."

"Thanks."

They stood there watching the Christmas tree as it glimmered in the dying firelight. The old Victrola in the corner was still playing faithfully, and the record flipped over to start a scratchy version of Celestina Warbeck's "_Hang the Mistletoe (And Watch Out for the Nargles)._"

At last, Seamus pulled his shoulders back. "I don't suppose you'd ever want to go out with me," he said quite casually.

Somehow Rachel managed to keep a straight face as she replied, "Well, I don't suppose I'd ever get the chance to tell you, if you never ask."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"D'you want to go out with me?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"What will turn that 'maybe' into an 'I thought you'd never ask'?"

"You're not allowed to take me to Madam Puddifoot's. I'd rather transfer to Slytherin than set foot in that place."

Seamus tried to mask a huge, gratified, rather relieved grin. "Not Puddifoot's. What, then?"

"Tomes and Scrolls," Rachel said immediately. "I've always wanted to go in there and explore all the books, but the girls never give me enough time."

"So, if we go to Tomes and Scrolls, would you agree to go out with me?"

Rachel shook her curls back over her shoulder, eyed him archly, and said, "I thought you'd never ask."

He nodded slowly, squinting at the Christmas tree and trying to look as casual as possible. "Okay. Good."

"'Good'?" she responded, reaching over with her elbow and nudging him until he couldn't keep the merry laugh bottled up anymore.

"Rachel!" Hannah called down from upstairs, cutting their laughter short. "Bedtime! Get your bottom up here!"

The grin on Rachel's face faded away and she said apologetically to Seamus, "I should go…"

"Yeah, me too," he answered with a sigh, helping her slowly gather up her things. Clearly, he had no desire to go upstairs; neither did she. But Hannah was insistent, and there was the great persuasion of Christmas presents soon to come, so Seamus gently put the small stack of books into Rachel's waiting arms. "Well, I guess it's goodnight, then."

She scuffed the toe of her shoe along the carpets as they went slowly towards the stairs. "Yeah…goodnight."

"Sleep tight."

"Don't let the nargles bite."

Seamus smiled. "Goodnight, Hekman."

"Goodnight, Finnigan."

She paused for a brief moment but then turned to head up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Seamus watched her go for a minute or two, feeling as though he were losing out on a fantastic opportunity; he then also turned rather reluctantly and went to climb the stairs to his dorm.

Rachel, meanwhile, was swearing under her breath and berating herself for not seizing the many opportunities that had presented themselves to her that day. She had wanted to kiss Seamus for what seemed like ages; the desire for him to crush her in his arms and kiss her until she was breathless was just as strong as it had been at the Yule Ball fourth year, if not more so.

Almost of their own accord, her feet stopped climbing the stairs. She had quite made up her mind, in fact—setting the stack of books down on a step, she spun around and called out, "Seamus?"

He came clattering down the boys' staircase and halted at the very bottom of the girls', standing on the tips of his toes as if he desperately wanted to finish the journey to her side but well knew the painful consequences of such action. "What is it?" he asked earnestly.

Rachel went down the steps toward him, teetering a bit in her haste, and Seamus automatically held out his arms to catch her if she fell. Fall she did not, but went right into his arms and, standing on the bottom step so they were nose-to-nose, flung her arms around his neck and kissed him abruptly.

She withdrew just as swiftly, and Seamus's hands grazed her sides as she retreated a few steps to the side right when his stupefied brain began to say something along the lines of 'Hold her, you stupid pogue.'

"Sorry," she breathed, face red as a cherry, holding her hands in front of her mouth.

"'Sorry'?" Seamus spluttered.

She nodded meekly.

"I—I've been wanting to kiss you for _years_—and all you have to say is 'sorry'?"

Rachel's eyes were growing shiny, and Seamus's still-dumbfounded brain finally had the sense to realize that his mouth could be put to much better use. Therefore, he shut up, pulled her down from the last step, took her face in both his hands, and kissed her heartily.

She gave a little squeak of surprise but at the same time took hold of his arms as though she would never let go. A few moments of relative silence ensued before Seamus surfaced long enough to repeat quite emphatically, "_Years_."

With a breathless laugh that made his knees go weak, Rachel pulled his hands away from her face and wrapped her arms around his neck again until they were toe-to-toe and smooshed rather comfortably together. "I don't understand why you're wasting time by talking, then," she whispered, then blushed even deeper at her own brazenness.

Seamus grinned briefly, then bashfully slipped his arms around her waist (resisting the urge to squeeze her in them until she squeaked with pleasant surprise again) and bent his head to hers.

She flinched back for a second, but immediately looked horrified at the motion. "I'm so sorry, Seamus—it's a force of habit—"

"Practice makes perfect," he answered lightly.

She gave that knee-weakening breathless laugh again and looked up at him with big eyes. Gently, he reached up with one hand and took her characteristic glasses off, slipping them into his back pocket and answering her bewildered look with a tender and lingering kiss that was unlike anything Rachel had read about in books or seen in movies or even imagined—no, it was a thousand times better because it was real, and because it was _Seamus._

Gradually, they both became vaguely aware of two things: first, that embarrassed first years were heading off to bed around them, gingerly sidestepping the couple and tip-toeing up the stairs; and second, that Seamus was no longer simply holding his arms around Rachel but was pressing her close with such a hug that she might have found it a bit difficult to breathe if she had been thinking about breathing at all.

Neither of them did anything about either of the two things.

Suddenly, though, Hannah's very unwelcome voice came ringing down the stairwell: "Rachel Anne, come upstairs!"

They parted reluctantly, Seamus admirably condensing his annoyance into one barely audible sigh, and Rachel having to recover for a second before turning her head and calling weakly, "I'll be up in a few minutes…"

Seamus grinned briefly, bending his head in anticipation of a renewal of their romantic interlude.

"No, now!" Hannah called back.

Rachel closed her eyes as though praying for patience. "All right, all right, coming. I'm sorry," she added in a softer voice to Seamus, pressing her hands briefly against his chest.

"It's all right." Seamus brushed a curl away from her chin with a mischievous smile.

"What?" Rachel asked suspiciously.

"You know how you always make fun of those romance novels that write about 'kiss-bruised lips'? Well, my dear…"

Rachel turned bright red.

"_Dean_," Hannah yelled.

The door to the boys' dorm opened almost immediately. "Yeah?"

"Could you drag Seamus up to bed? I hear him and Rachel talking down there."

"My pleasure."

Rachel and Seamus quickly stepped away from each other as Dean came around the curve in the staircase and said, "Sorry, mate. Bedtime."

Seamus rocked on his toes and, nodding, said, "Well, Su…happy Christmas."

She hid a smile. "Happy Christmas, Seamus Finnigan."

The three parted ways then. As Rachel was picking up the books she had left on the steps, she heard Dean say to Seamus,

"Hey, mate, glad you decided to come back."

"So am I…this is turning out to be the best Christmas I've ever had!"

"You look oddly happy," Hannah commented suspiciously as Rachel walked past her into the dorm.

"Do I?" Rachel replied casually with a small smile. "Must be because it's Christmas. Goodnight!"

And with that, they went to bed.

_ A/N: And that, friends, will be the last update for a while…I, Sushi, have typed up all that we've written so far! So hopefully, Schmurf will mail me some new material soon, but if not, look for updates in the later spring! Cheers!_


	35. There Must Be Something in the Water

**Chapter 35:**

**There Must Be Something in the Water**

"Hey, guys!"

Katelyn's voice carried all through the dormitory, startling everyone out of a peaceful sleep.

"Come on, people," she continued to call, standing akimbo on her mattress. "It's Christmas!"

The female Funny Farmers, along with the other Gryffindors, merely stretched and rubbed the sleepiness out of their eyes, the full reality of the situation not hitting them until—

"Christmas!" Rachel cried, bolting out of bed and scrambling to put her dressing gown on.

"Woohoo!" Tanya added a fist-bump to the equation.

Parvati and Lavender were heard groaning behind their curtains, and Katelyn did not bother to wake them more fully; there was the general bustle of hasty dressing and hair-brushing, and then the girls marched to the boys' dorm, their arms full of presents, pulling aside the curtains, setting up on the bed of the boy of their choice, and ripping into the wrapping paper of their many gifts.

Dean, and Seamus peered sleepily at them from under their covers, looking rather peeved at this sudden invasion of the female species. "Wha're you doing?" Dean said groggily.

"Happy Christmas, Tofu," Tanya said cheerily by way of explanation, settling down on Neville's empty bed and spreading her hoard all over the mattress. "Chocolate frog?"

While Dean nibbled happily on his treat, Hannah flopped down by his feet and, grinning, said, "It's a good thing you were slightly awake when we came in. We would have had to Transfigure your pillows into turtles and paint your toenails purple if you weren't."

Katelyn nodded solemnly from Ron's bed.

"We're quite awake," Seamus assured them all, sitting up quickly and running a hand through his tousled hair. "Please don't paint my toenails."

"Not this time, we won't," Rachel said. She prodded him over and settled down on the mattress next to him. "Here, open this present—it's from your mam."

He took it obediently and ripped the paper open. "Ooh! Another Kenmare Kestrels shirt—wicked!" Tearing the vivid green t-shirt out of its packaging, he threw the covers off, pulled the shirt of his pajamas off over his head without even unbuttoning them, and put the Kestrels jersey on instead. "Brilliant, innit?" he asked, beaming as he turned to Rachel.

Rachel looked rather startled to have seen so much skin without warning, but she grinned back and blushingly smoothed some wrinkles out of the cloth as he settled back next to her, his shoulder pressed against hers.

"Say," said Katelyn in the meanwhile, eyeing Harry's unoccupied bed, "have we heard more about what happened the other night?"

The mood in the room, which had been happy and lighthearted, suddenly turned tense as Seamus and Dean glanced at each other. "Nothing more than what we told you earlier," Dean sighed. "Harry woke us up screaming—threw up a few times—said something about a…what was it again, Seamus? Oh, yeah, a snake—and Mr. Weasley? McGonagall took him and Ron and the next thing we know, all the Weasleys are gone for the holiday."

"Scary as hell," Seamus muttered around a mouthful of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. "Still petrified I'm going to wake up and find him standing over me, having one of those fits…"

Hannah, Tanya, and Katelyn looked immediately at Rachel, prepared for a full-on argument. Rather than explode with indignation, however, Rachel just looked mournfully at Seamus for a moment and he, lowering his gaze, murmured an apology. Everyone was silent for a moment—Rachel and Seamus had just deliberately avoided a blazing row for perhaps the first time in their shared history, and no one quite knew what to do.

"Er…does anyone want a Twix?" Tanya asked hesitantly, offering up a handful of the Muggle candy bar. Dean and Seamus, both of whom had never tried the treat, accepted gratefully, and the subject of Harry was dropped.

"Wow," Hannah whispered to Dean as the Funny Farm continued opening gifts. "Rachel must be _really_ happy Seamus is back."

"They don't look exactly normal," Dean replied, watching as Rachel, mid-laugh, reached up and brushed a lock of Seamus's hair away from his forehead.

"We should check them for fevers."

"No, they're Disillusioned. That must be it. Should we ask?"

Hannah shook her head thoughtfully. "No…no, I don't think so. Maybe we should just wait and see what happens?"

"Agreed."

"Are you all right?" Rachel called across the room to the two of them.

Hannah and Dean nodded mutely.

"Then close your bloody mouths," Seamus said good-naturedly. "Blimey, you two look like a pair of fish."

Chastened, the couple snapped their jaws shut.

Katelyn, oblivious, jumped up at this point and said, "Tanya, I got one of yours by mistake. Who's it from? I've never seen this handwriting…"

Tanya took the small robin's-egg blue package, blushing redder than any of the Funny Farmers had ever seen her, and hid it from view.

"No, open it!" Hannah urged.

"Come on," Katelyn shouted, bounding over and trying to grab it for herself. "Open it yourself or I'll do it for you!"

"All right!" Tanya cried, tearing the paper. A silvery bracelet fell out, and Katelyn fell upon it, cooing in admiration.

"It's from a boy!" she said in surprise. "'Tanya and Terry…Together Forever'? _Tanya_? You and _Terry Boot_?"

Tanya, now a delicate shade of magenta, buried her face in Neville's comforter.

"And another one bites the dust," Dean said lightly as Katelyn and Tanya argued loudly over when this relationship had become official (Rachel and Hannah were not surprised; the announcement had been imminent since the Yule Ball). "Now only Katelyn, Rachel, and Seamus are left!"

Seamus and Rachel traded glances and then carefully looked elsewhere, hiding small grins.

At any rate, the chaotic binge of present-opening continued: Dean, slightly one-upped by Terry's gift to Tanya, looked mulish even as Hannah cooed over the heart-shaped necklace he had given her. Katelyn got a DVD from her mother and father and wasted no time in complaining to everyone that her parents simply did _not_ understand the fact that Muggle electronics didn't work at Hogwarts and that she'd have to wait until June to see the movie and they might as well have waited to give it to her then. Rachel very proudly bestowed upon Seamus a dusty and boring-looking tome on Irish-American Wizarding history, which he apparently enjoyed judging by the fact that he read the first chapter immediately upon opening the packaging (she soon made up for this gift by giving him a glossy and colorful notebook in which to write the spells he was inventing; the pages classified the spells for him as he wrote them down). In return, Seamus (looking a bit bashful) presented her with a small, very life-like model of the rare bright blue Macgillicuddian Softsnout; the tiny Irish dragon prowled around in Rachel's lap for a few minutes before climbing into the breast pocket of her robe and falling asleep.

"That's why they're almost extinct now," Seamus told her sheepishly. "The real things are really too cuddly to be very dangerous."

Rachel, who had been cooing silently over the tiny model, now turned to Seamus, beaming up at him, and slipped her hand into his just long enough to give it a gentle squeeze. He obligingly turned a light pink color and returned the squeeze before burying his face in the history book when Dean and Hannah looked their way again.

"From what I understand," Katelyn said suddenly with a conspiratorial look, "there's more romance in the DA than just Dean and Hannah."

Seamus and Rachel froze and looked at each other in shock. _How_ could the others have found out so quickly—it hadn't even been twelve hours since their kisses at the foot of the stairs!

Before either of them could get any form of excuse out, though, Katelyn was plowing on: "I heard a few third years talking about Harry and Cho Chang—she's a Ravenclaw—apparently, they were kissing under the mistletoe in the DA room the night before the end of term!"

Hannah and Tanya squealed, Dean yawned, and Rachel and Seamus just looked relieved. "No way!" said Tanya, who seemed happy to focus on a couple that was not comprised of herself and Terry Boot. "Wait…isn't Cho Chang that sixth year who dated Cedric Diggory last year?"

"She's the Ravenclaw Seeker," Rachel added helpfully.

"Yeah, and she's always crying in the bathroom," Katelyn said matter-of-factly.

"Can you imagine, though?" Hannah sighed. "Cedric died just when their relationship was getting serious. It would be like Dean dying tomorrow." She gave a little sniff, and Rachel and Seamus tried very hard not to look at each other.

"I don't like this conversation anymore," Tanya said softly. "Can we go down to breakfast?"

Her suggestion sparked a ripple of motion throughout the room. "Yes, I'm starving!" Dean said heartily, crumpling up all the wrapping paper on his bed into a little ball and tossing it towards the bin.

Seamus did the same. "Womenfolk, leave this place and dress thyselves," he said imperiously, pointing to the door.

"Coming from the man wearing pajama pants," Rachel retorted teasingly, trying to detangle herself from Seamus's sheets so she could get up. Instead, Seamus made a move like he was going to shove her, and she fell off the side of the mattress with a shriek.

"Just can't bring yourself to get out of my bed, can you?" he asked, grinning as she continued to struggle with the sheets.

Rachel's retort was a pillow flung in his face, and Katelyn shrugged as she came over to help her get untangled. "You deserved that one; admit it."

Seamus stuck his tongue out at the girls' retreating backs.

The girls dressed quickly, trying to stay quiet to avoid waking Lavender and Parvati, but none of them were ready as swiftly as Rachel was. "Meet you downstairs," she threw back over her shoulder as she exited the room at high speed.

"What was that all about?" Katelyn asked, still trying to get her slippers off.

"I dunno," said Hannah curiously. "But did anyone else notice how weird she and Seamus were acting?"

"It wasn't so much weird as it was _different_," Tanya noted. "I can't even put my finger on it. Not weird, not bad, just…different. Like they've got an inside joke that we'll never understand."

"That's a good way of putting it," Katelyn said.

Suddenly, all three of them were keenly aware of the fact that Lavender, who had been tossing and turning, had become quite still and was most likely listening to every word they were saying; Tanya swiftly and expertly changed the subject by commenting on the weather, and the topic was forgotten.

Meanwhile, Rachel was clattering down the stairs and turning the corner to find Seamus in a deserted common room, intensely studying one of the many tapestries on the wall as if he had never seen it before.

"Morning," Rachel said by way of announcing herself, then winced at the stupidity of the greeting. She had, after all, just seen him.

"Morning," he returned with a bashful smile. "Er…you look nice."

She blushed and shrugged off the compliment. "The real question is, will you take that shirt off on a day in the relatively close future?"

Seamus looked down at his Kestrels jersey and pondered it for a moment before saying, "Nope."

"Ah, well. At least it looks good on you."

"In that case, I am _never_ taking it off again."

Rachel had to laugh, and Seamus took this opportunity to add quickly, "How are you holding up? I mean, after the EA and everything…"

The smile that had been on Rachel's face slid off, and she stuck her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "Ah. Erm, I hadn't thought too much about it, actually. Still trying to process it, I guess."

"So you haven't thought of any other career options?" Seamus pressed.

Blinking hard, she cleared her throat and said, "Well, I guess I'd been thinking about the international office of the Ministry of Magic. I mean, I'm an American, and I like politics and public affairs, but…I don't know. I really saw myself teaching here."

Her eyes were filling up with tears, and Seamus suddenly felt like all his limbs were too big for his body. "Listen…I didn't mean to upset you…"

She gave a watery laugh. "Oh, Seamus, dear, you didn't upset me. I upset myself. Look at me go…how silly of me."

How she could manage to laugh while tears were streaming down her face, Seamus couldn't understand, but there she was and he was just standing there, watching her, completely unable to think of a way to help.

A few moments passed in relative silence as Rachel swiped uselessly at the tears flowing down her cheeks. At last, a glimmer of an idea popped up in Seamus's mind, and he cleared his throat, saying hopefully, "I know a hug won't make things better, but do you want one anyway?"

Rachel laughed through her tears again and nodded, looking at the carpet.

Finally, something he could do—! Seamus hurried forward and wrapped his arms around her, and she melted against him as if she'd never been hugged before. "I'm just glad," she said into his shoulder, "that no matter what happens, I still have you and Dean and the girls."

"See, that's looking on the bright side," Seamus said, wrapping one of her curls around his finger.

"But mainly you," Rachel continued softly.

Seamus felt his ears radiating heat, and he hid his grin in her shoulder.

"Oh, look," Rachel said at last, leaning back, "I'm getting your precious jersey all wet."

"I don't mind, really," Seamus replied genuinely, keeping one arm firmly around her as he reached up with his other hand to wipe a few stray tears off her cheek. "What good is a t-shirt if you're not going to use it?"

Rachel braced her hands against his chest and looked up at him, head tilted slightly to the left as if he were a particularly intriguing museum specimen. He returned the steady gaze, and there was silence for a few moments.

"Look," he said at last, "I've been thinking."

Rachel raised her eyebrows, and he hastened to continue. "I mean, I was thinking last night…about, you know, everything we talked about. And I was just wondering, I mean…I know you _really_ wanted to go to Tomes and Scrolls, and I do promise to take you there; I was just thinking…I mean, the next Hogsmeade trip isn't until the middle of January. That's almost a month away."

He paused here for dramatic effect. When Rachel merely waited for him to continue, he cleared his throat and did so quickly. "What I want to know is…would you go out with me before that?"

Rachel eyed him, and his heart stopped, but then he realized that she was trying to hide a grin as she said, "Oh, all right, then."

"Have you ever been to the eighth floor?"

"No, there aren't any classrooms up there."

"_Score_. Will you meet me there tomorrow night after dinner? We'll tell the others we're going to the library."

"I like the way you think. It's a deal."

"And—just so I have my facts straight—we _are_ trying to be subtle about this, right? All secret agent-like with code names and rendezvous points and sneaking around behind people's backs?"

Rachel giggled. "Yeah, you got it."

They grinned at each other, basking in the rare pleasure of a few minutes to be alone. "I don't think I've ever held you this long," Seamus stated matter-of-factly as he reached up to brush a final rogue tear off of Rachel's cheekbone.

"Keep up the good work," Rachel answered, and Seamus decided that there were quite a few more tears, eyelashes, and invisible bits of dust that needed to be gently brushed away by the side of his thumb.

Rachel let him do this for a moment, but soon she caught his hand and said softly, "I think you got everything on my cheek, but you missed a spot over here…" She started to move his hand a little to the side, but Seamus had already guessed what she was getting at; at least he hoped to _hell_ he had, because by the time he realized that she might have been talking about something else entirely, he was already kissing her like the world was going to end tomorrow.

"If this wasn't what you meant," he said hoarsely, breaking away an inch or two, "I'm really sor—"

"It _is_ what I meant," Rachel said, pulling him back into the kiss.

A minute or two passed in this manner; before either of them were ready, however, they heard the slam of the boys' dormitory door and the unmistakable sounds of Dean coming down the stairs. Seamus stepped back hurriedly, but he was in such kiss-dazed haste that he tripped over Rachel's feet and went sprawling on his back, and the two of them burst out in laughter just as Dean came into the common room.

He watched them with bewilderment. "Am I…interrupting something?" he asked as Rachel bent to help Seamus up, still laughing.

"No, not at all," she said between giggles, brushing carpet detritus off of Seamus's back. "Why do you ask?"

"You got ready fast," Seamus said in a would-be-light voice, trying to keep a straight face.

Dean glanced at his watch, still bemused. "It's been ten minutes…"

"It has?" Rachel said vaguely. "Oh, it didn't seem that long…"

She and Seamus looked at each other and burst out laughing again.

"I don't understand what's so funny," Dean said crossly just as the three other girls came down the stairs.

"What's so funny?" Tanya asked blankly.

"Exactly."

Seamus and Rachel were hanging on each other, nearly crying with mirth, completely oblivious to their friends' baffled expressions.

"You know that feeling that they're not telling us something?" Katelyn muttered to the others. "Yeah, I have it right now."

"Whatever," Hannah said dismissively, striding past the still-giggling couple. "Let's go to breakfast."

And so the Funny Farm moved out, Seamus and Rachel bringing up the rear, still wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. It really was shaping up to be quite a good Christmas…


	36. Love Languages

**Chapter Thirty-Six:**

**Love Languages**

Rachel woke early the next morning, her stomach full of pleasant butterflies, then took one look at her watch and groaned into her pillow—a whole ten hours before her pseudo-date with Seamus! The sun was just starting to rise, and the dormitory was dark, but she rolled out of bed and dressed anyway, more to give her hands something to do than anything else. The flagstones of the staircase leading down into the common room were cold even through her slippers, but she stoked up the fire and settled down to read the book her parents had given her for Christmas.

Before she delved into the world of make-believe that the pages of the book contained, though, she allowed herself a few moments to reflect on the slightly giddy feeling that she'd been experiencing for the last few days: rather than the consistent dissatisfaction that always comes with unrequited love, she could now think of Seamus with nothing less than pure happiness. No more "he loves me, he loves me not" games, no more disappointments, no more frustration!

And so she settled deeper into her seat and opened the book. So enthralled in the plot did she become that when Seamus came down an hour later and kissed her on the cheek by way of saying hello, she jumped about a foot in her chair and lost her page.

"Good morning to you, too," he said, raising an eyebrow as he flung himself down in front of the fire.

Rachel, clinging to her book, wrinkled her nose at him. "You startled me, is all."

"They do call me the Phantom," Seamus said, deadpan, stretching like a cat and rolling onto his stomach to look at her. "I can go undetected anywhere."

"That was creepy."

"A bit, yeah…"

Rachel started paging through the book, trying to find her spot again. "Are we still on for tonight?"

"I should hope so. I'll tell everyone I'm going to the library to study."

"Okay, then. I'll act really guilty and say something along the lines of, 'Well, if _Seamus_ is cracking open a book, then I should really start studying, too.'"

Seamus nodded. "They'll buy it."

She peeked at him over her book. "Am I not allowed to know what we'll be doing once we get up there?"

"Nope!" Seamus replied cheerfully, putting his arms behind his head.

It was a good thing that the rest of the Funny Farm came down at that moment, because Rachel was about to chuck a rather heavy-looking book at Seamus's head.

"We always seem to interrupt you two in the midst of an argument," Tanya noted mildly.

"It's their love language," Katelyn said dryly. "Some people show affection by giving gifts to their friends, but Rachel and Seamus just abuse each other."

From his lounging position, Seamus aimed a swat at Rachel's ankle, which she deftly avoided by drawing her legs up onto the couch.

"All right, all right," Hannah sighed, pulling Rachel to her feet. "Let's go get breakfast before things degenerate any further."

So the group split into pairs and trooped down to the Great Hall, careful to give no indication whatsoever that they were members of a secret society. It would have been hard to guess that such was the case, of course, but not at all hard to notice Seamus and Rachel, who were walking side-by-side and shoving each other away with increasing violence.

Miraculously, they all managed to make it through breakfast alive, and even managed to sneak a snowball fight in before lunch without anyone being seriously injured. After lunch was another story, when Tanya had to go to the Hospital Wing after a particularly vengeful game of Exploding Snap singed her eyebrows and eyelashes off. Madam Pomfrey was able to heal the burns and grow most of the hair back, but things were understandably rather subdued after that.

When Rachel came down the stairs for dinner carrying her backpack, then, everyone was safe in assuming that she intended to spend the rest of the night studying. Walking slowly down to the Great Hall for the third time that day, so that Tanya might not get too woozy, Seamus alternately kept Tanya propped up on his arm and told anyone within earshot that he really should start thinking about his O.W.L.s.

"You and Rachel should go to the library to study," Katelyn suggested mildly as they sat down to eat. "You might inspire each other. Think of it as a competition…whoever gets the highest grade on their Potions O.W.L. wins."

"Yes," said Hannah, who had been feeling rather put out lately that Operation Greenhouse had not gone as expected and so was divided between either putting her two friends into situations involving lots of privacy or keeping them as supervised as possible. "And if you manage to beat _me_, then I'll take you out to Hogsmeade and buy you the most expensive piece of Honeydukes' candy you could imagine!"

"I'll take you up on that," Dean said quickly and eagerly. "I've been wanting to try that Venezuelan Mayan Tomb powder…they say it gives you the power to knock down walls with your bare hands!"

"No, no," said Seamus, "what's the use of knocking down walls? You've got to try Desperado Honey—they say it's honey made by rare albino bumblebees native only to Albania, harvested at the full moon and stirred with the wands of arrested highway robbers. It's supposed to make you exceptionally daring and dashing."

"Why would I want to be daring when I could knock down walls?" Dean retorted.

"I think I'm actually going to eat with Pamela and Mandy," Rachel said to the girls over Dean's and Seamus' squabbling. "They're waving for me."

"Have fun with the enemy," Katelyn called after her as she went to sit with some of her Ravenclaw friends.

"Wait," Seamus said after a minute, holding his hand up to Dean's face to indicate that he should shut up. "Where'd Rachel go?"

"Ravenclaw table," Tanya said patiently.

"I swear, she spends half her time with Ravenclaws," said Dean, shoving potatoes into his mouth.

"The Sorting Hat wanted to put her there, you know," Seamus replied like it was common knowledge.

Everyone stared at him.

"What?" he asked around a mouthful of shepherd's pie.

"I always thought Rachel was a Gryffindor, through and through," Katelyn said in awe.

Seamus shrugged. "She and the Hat argued back and forth for a while, but Rachel eventually bullied it into putting her in Gryffindor."

"She would," Hannah snorted.

"You all seem awfully surprised," Seamus went on. "I'd have thought it would be kind of obvious."

"To you, maybe," Dean shrugged. "I just always assumed we were all pureblood Gryffindors."

"Oi," Seamus said loudly. "You remember how long it took for the Hat to figure out where to put me! Ages, mate. _Ages_."

"Yeah, what was up with that?" Dean asked curiously.

"It couldn't decide between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor," Seamus grumbled.

"So why'd it pick Gryffindor?"

"Because it said I was belligerent but too compassionate to actually want to hurt anyone. So it stuck me here and said, 'Good luck, kid.'"

Hannah and Tanya choked on their pumpkin juice and had to hide their laughing fits behind napkins.

"Oh, you can laugh," Seamus said over their snorting. "What did the Sorting Hat want to sort _you_ into?"

"I was Gryffindor, through-and-through," Tanya said mildly.

Everyone stared at her.

"What?"

"No offense, but you seem more of a Hufflepuff," said Dean.

"Hey!" Hannah said. "The Sorting Hat almost put _me_ in Hufflepuff!"

"I almost got put in Slytherin," Katelyn said matter-of-factly, causing all the chattering in the nearby vicinity to cease immediately.

"_What_?" Tanya peeped.

Katelyn shrugged. "Yep."

"So…how'd you get into Gryffindor?"

"I dunno. Just did."

She continued eating as though this were the most normal thing ever to come out of her mouth while everyone continued to watch her out of the corners of their eyes.

"Oh, Rachel's leaving," Tanya pointed out, nodding across the Great Hall as Rachel, having finished eating, got up and waved to her Ravenclaw friends before heading for the door.

Seamus glanced at his watch.

"You'd better hurry if you want to study together," Hannah told him. "You'll have to grab your books from the Tower first."

"Yeah, you're right," Seamus said, shoving a few last spoonfuls of cherry tart into his mouth before getting up. "I'll see you all later."

"Later," they muttered noncommittally as he hurried from the Great Hall, looking much too excited for homework.


	37. TARDIS

_A/N: Yep, two updates in as many days! I just wanted to get both out there, since it's been so long since we updated. There's more to come, too! :) -SH_

**Chapter Thirty-Seven:**

**TARDIS - Time And a Romantic Date In Space**

Of course, after he left the Great Hall, Seamus had no intention of going back to Gryffindor Tower. Rather, he headed for the eighth floor, buttoning up his collared shirt to hide the t-shirt underneath and tucking it into his jeans as he went.

Meanwhile, Rachel was in the fifth floor girls' loo, tugging a vibrant green dress over her head and inspecting herself anxiously in the mirror. She didn't know why she was so nervous, but her hands were trembling so that when she tried to sever a stray thread from the hem at her left wrist, she ended up nearly unraveling the whole sleeve and had to resort to a repairing charm and a few deep breaths before continuing.

She shouldn't be so nervous. This little outing—if one could call it that—was no different than the millions of times she and Seamus had gone places together. If what he had told her was true, then they had both gone into those excursions with the same feelings for each other they now were open about.

_Exactly the same_, she told herself again, turning away from the mirror and shoving the jeans and sweater she'd previously been wearing into her bookbag. One last time, she turned to look in the mirror and hoped to heaven that Seamus would not think her weird for dressing up so much, then slung the bag over her shoulder and darted out the door.

Seamus was standing at the top of the stairs leading from the seventh to the eighth floors when Rachel got there. He had been getting a bit nervous, as he had left after she had, but before long he spotted her making her way up the staircase.

"Sorry I'm late," she said breathlessly, trotting up the last few stairs.

"No worries," Seamus replied. "I just got here, myself."

Rachel smiled and was nearing the very top of the staircase when it shuddered, jerked, and started slowly grinding its way to another corridor. With a shout, Seamus reached forward and dragged her up onto the landing.

"Phew," he said, watching the staircase go. "That was close."

"I wasn't even paying attention," she said breathlessly, still clinging to his arms. "I hate it when they do that…"

"A bit of excitement never hurt anyone," he told her with a grin.

"Especially when you're there to help the damsel in distress," she retorted dryly, flipping her hair at him.

He grinned again. "You ready to see where we're going?"

She hoisted her bookbag higher on her shoulder. "Yeah!"

Taking her hand, Seamus set off down the corridor that stretched out behind them. "I've only been up here a few times…but I don't think they change things often. They look pretty dusty."

"What does?"

As they neared the door at the end of the corridor, Rachel noticed a dull roar, like a gigantic, clamoring audience was waiting for them. She began to dig her heels in a little.

"Come on," Seamus urged, and turned the knob.

Rachel's protest died on her lips as she stepped into the room. It was of normal classroom size with the customary narrow windows of an upper-floor room, but the walls were not bare but covered with paintings—some small, some medium, and some taking up almost entire walls. The noise they had heard nearing the door was the clamor the subjects of these paintings were making—one of the largest paintings was of a dramatic 15th century battle, and the clash of swords and cries of the soldiers was almost deafening. Another large painting was of a band of Victorian carolers, and the tune of "God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs" added to the noise.

"What is this place?" Rachel shouted, hands over her ears.

"It's the gallery," Seamus answered likewise. "Famous Wizarding paintings. That big one there is of Joan of Arc."

"What?"

"_Joan of Arc!"_

Rachel's face lit up, and she spun around to look where Seamus was pointing. Sure enough, the dominant figure in the painting was, upon closer examination, a woman! She was clinging to her rearing charger with just her legs, carrying a snow-white battle flag in one hand and slashing at foot soldiers with a broadsword held in the other.

"Hey!" Rachel yelled up at the painting. "Hey—hey, _you_!"

A few soldiers noticed her and stopped for a moment, but nearly lost their heads as a result.

Rachel looked at Seamus for help, and he shrugged, so she pulled out her wand, pointed it at her throat, and said, "_Sonorous._ _HEY, JOAN!_"

Her voice, magically magnified, echoed around the room, silencing the many paintings, whose occupants looked her way with annoyance. She ignored them, however, because the battle in the painting in front of her had stopped, and the soldiers were all looking down at her.

"You bellowed for me?" said Joan of Arc, lifting her helmet up.

"Why, yes, I did," Rachel answered after removing the charm from her throat.

"What is it that you want of me, then?"

"I've always wondered how you convinced the French generals to follow your command!"

Joan eyed her for a moment, then swiftly dismounted, sheathed her sword, foisted the banner on a nearby soldier, and sat down in the foreground right in front of Rachel. "Finally, someone thought to ask me that," she said comfortably. "Three hundred years of hanging in this drafty castle, and you're the first one to wonder."

Rachel beamed.

While Rachel and Joan were talking, Seamus stuck his hands in his pockets and meandered about the room, pausing before a small painting of a group of Russian peasants drinking tea from small glass cups. Suddenly, Rachel was by his side again, slipping her hand into his.

"Joan wants to meet you," she said, pulling him back to the painting. "This is my friend Seamus," she announced.

Joan had stood up and was leaning on a spear, peering out of her picture frame. "Hello, Seamus."

Seamus waved up at her. "Nice to meet you, Miss, um…of Arc."

She was getting up on her horse as he spoke, but she waved as a nearby French soldier handed her the banner again. "And also you, master Seamus," she said. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Rachel, but I'm afraid we really must carry on…"

"As long as you keep it down a bit," Rachel replied good-naturedly.

Joan nodded as she unsheathed her sword, and before either Rachel or Seamus could react, the battle between English and French began again, albeit more subdued.

They had to laugh, and in order to hear their own thoughts, moved up the room towards the door, gazing up at the many paintings—Rachel watched the Russian tea-drinkers with rapt attention for a few minutes before moving on to a scene of small children sliding on handmade sleds down a snowy hill. Seamus and Rachel laughed with the merry sledders for a minute before turning towards the Victorian carolers.

Rachel hadn't ever let go of Seamus's hand, and as they neared the frame, she squeezed it a little and bumped his shoulder with her own. "This is brilliant," she said to him as the carolers bustled towards the front of the landscape.

"I thought you'd like it. Here, I'll pull up a bench for you," he replied, clumsily searching for his wand as his ears turned red.

Rachel smiled at him, and he waved his wand a bit haphazardly so they had to jump out of the way of the bench that came zooming at them from a corner.

The musicians were tuning their instruments as Rachel and Seamus sat down together on the bench. "I always thought," Rachel said softly, folding her hands in her lap, "that if I had a time-machine, I would go back to the 1800s just to experience a real Victorian Christmas."

"You'd think that we'd be able to devise a better way of time travel than Time-Turners," Seamus agreed. "That would be a lot of spinning the hourglass…"

"Unfortunate, but true," Rachel sighed.

"I, for one, would go back to imperial Russia."

"As a courtier, I assume; not a peasant."

"Naturally."

"As long as I could come with you, then."

"Also, naturally."

Rachel beamed with excitement for a moment before she sadly reminded herself that extensive time travel was still beyond the reach of Wizardkind. "Oh, well," she said resignedly. "I can always hope for the Doctor to come whizzing out of a vortex and ask me to be his next companion…"

"I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"What do you mean?"

"You being stolen away by a strange man who lives in a box…"

Rachel had to laugh, and she found the fleshy spot between his pelvis and ribcage to put her elbow in. "I'd have you come along, of course."

"We'd be like Amy and Rory."

"Except we're not married."

_Yet_, was the word that popped up unbidden into Seamus's mind, but he didn't want to make Rachel or himself gag from the sappiness of it all so he kept his mouth shut and let the clear, sweet notes of the carolers, along with the warmth of Rachel's body next to him, wash over him.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," he murmured as a wave of contentment rose up inside of him.

"What, fifteen and awkward?" Rachel said dryly.

"No. Here. Warm and safe and happy. Just the two of us."

"We're hardly alone," Rachel replied, but she snuggled up against him nonetheless.

Seamus's ears turned so red they started to sting as he shifted his weight and wrapped his arms around her. How on earth he managed to survive without this for the last four and a half years, he would never know.

After a minute or two, Rachel whispered into his shirt, "I wish we could stay like this, too."

Seamus basked in those words for a minute before saying with as much composure as he could muster, "We'll have to lay down some ground rules for PDA if we're going to keep this up."

Rachel went a bit tense in his arms, but her voice was quite calm as she replied, "Oh? And what rules do you have in mind?"

He shrugged with the shoulder she was not resting her head against and said, "Well, I dunno…I mean, I _like_ kissing you a lot, and such, but…I do give you free reign to kiss me whenever and wherever you so desire."

Rachel shifted suddenly against him, pushing his arms away, and Seamus realized that he may have just absolutely destroyed any chance he had ever had of having a long-term, fulfilling relationship, when it occurred to him several seconds too late that she had been repositioning her body all the better to kiss him with, which she had proceeded to do while he was still lamenting the loss of their relationship.

"Wait," he said when she pulled back for a moment. "I'm confused."

"What don't you get?" she said softly, playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

"Well, it's not so much that I don't _get_. It's just that I think I missed the beginning bit…could you start from there again?"

Rachel had to laugh. "You _are _a flirt, Mr. Finnigan!"

"What can I say? You bring out the best in me," he retorted with a grin. "Now, here—are you going to repeat what you just told me or what?"

"I'm not going to start spoiling you just because you flash a grin in my direction," Rachel protested.

"No, of course not. Did I say you were? No…I just want you to kiss me again. Please?"

Rachel attempted to act like his request left her completely unswayed, but it was of no use, and she gave him her best stinkeye before wrapping her arms around his neck again and gently fulfilling his request.

When she sat back a moment later, he had no wits left with which to tease her, so he compromised by pulling her back for one more kiss that lingered until one of the portraits coughed politely.

"We're one of _those_ couples now," Rachel said, her face quite red as she sat back and smoothed her hair.

"Oh, we're a couple?"

Rachel reached over and pushed Seamus, and he bobbed over, laughing too hard to maintain his balance.

"You're impossible," she said while trying to hide her grin.

He reached over and wrapped his arms around her again, burying his smile in her shoulder. "You wouldn't have it any other way."

"Mm. As long as we don't act this way in public," she responded, smoothing a crease in the collar of his shirt. "People would be barfing in the corridors."

"Our little secret."

They fell into silence, enjoying the sounds of the carolers, the warmth of each other's arms on such a cold night, and the pleasure of each other's company.

That is, until they heard a familiar rasping _meooowww_.

"Oh, no," Rachel murmured, stirring just enough to peek over Seamus's shoulder. "We haven't done anything wrong."

He turned to see Mrs. Norris, her hateful bushy tail flipping across the flagstones behind her as she eyed them beadily. "Tell that to Filch!"

"Not on my life," Rachel said, leaping to her feet and Summoning her backpack from across the hall. Seamus grabbed it in midair, took her hand with his other one, and together they hurried from the hall towards Gryffindor Tower.

"We'll have to do that again sometime," said Seamus a few minutes later, when they were safely within sight of the Fat Lady and had gotten their breath back.

"Rather presumptuous, don't you think?" said Rachel, despite the fact that she was still walking with Seamus's arm wrapped around her waist.

"Presumptuous? How?"

"Making me kiss you like that," she retorted, wrinkling her nose playfully.

"How gross. I wouldn't like to kiss me, either. But you have to admit, you _did_ get to meet Joan of Arc."

Rachel considered this point for a moment, then said, "You're right. I think that deserves at _least_ a second date."

"And a kiss goodnight, Agent 006?"

"Only if I get to be 007."

"Fine. Kiss me, 007."

Rachel took hold of his shirt and pulled him down into a firm and rather drawn-out kiss that only ended when the Fat Lady said, "Now, _really_!"

"Good enough, 006?" Rachel asked, hoisting her backpack onto her shoulder.

"For now, 007," Seamus responded as he smoothed his shirt. "Shall we pretend like we spent the whole time at the library and didn't look at each other once?"

"Oh, let's."

The Fat Lady swung forward and the two of them went forward into the common room and went their separate ways.


End file.
